


MIT, Time Travel and oh mY GOD IT'S PETER PARKER!

by visionsofus



Series: Field Trips, Infinity Stones and oh mY GOD IT'S SPIDER-MAN? [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Irondad, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Sequel to a ridiculously long field trip, Sick Peter, Spider-Man Identity Reveal, Tony Stark Has A Heart, but thought this was better, doesn’t mean there isn’t gonna be conflict sorry, i did want to do another field trip fic, i mean you asked for it?, not as angsty as the first one don’t worry!, spiderson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2020-06-26 00:24:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 52,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19756816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/visionsofus/pseuds/visionsofus
Summary: Things are definitely looking up for Peter Parker. Months have passed since the Snap and his life is finally beginning to get back on track. He has an amazing job at Stark Industries, he's almost finished his first semester at MIT with Ned, he gets to swing around New York on the weekends and things are looking like they might actually be going somewhere with MJ.It’s almost like Peter is starting to get part of his normal life back. It's a naive concept. Peter knows what he has committed his life to, what expectations everyone has for the hero they know as Spider-Man.Things quickly begin to heat up and Peter feels the growing pressure of his secret identity beginning to weigh on his decisions, not to mention the mysterious ‘Project Chronos’ which is weighing on him physically and has catastrophic effects on his mental state.Peter's survived the impossible - death - but could more deadly things be yet to come?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You ask and I shall deliver - here is the sequel to the field trip fic I wrote last month! 
> 
> Don’t worry if this is a bit dry, we’re still warming up. I can assure you shit will hit the fan quite soon - but in the meantime I hope you enjoy hearing about Peter’s life 6 months on from where we last saw him. 
> 
> It’s not necessary for you to read part 1 but it will certainly make more sense. 
> 
> This does not correlate with the narrative of ffh as much as I adored that movie! Also I’m not a science major nor do I have any knowledge of coding or engineering so forgive my (fake) tech talk :)

# VOLUME ONE: THANKSGIVING

_Tap, tap… tap_

_2…1_

Peter tried not to grow frustrated as his eyes darted from his worn, silver wristwatch to the front of the lecture hall where the professor was finally beginning to wrap his presentation up. Said professor seemed to have sensed the weariness of his students and was rushing through his final slides.

_Tap, tap, tap, tap…. Tap, tap, tap_

Peter’s pen tapped distractedly against the black keys of his laptop, which he had been taking notes on until the lecture had taken an unfortunate turn, becoming even more boring than this subject normally was. Unfortunately, that turn had taken place only twenty minutes into the lecture so for the last 30 Peter had been itching to leave the hall.

_4…. 3_

Peter counted the numbers off in his head as he continued tapping, each tap taking him one second closer to when he could jump up from the cramped seat, slide out from behind the small desk and beeline for the door.

2…4 5…1 4….1

"Excuse me." Someone said quietly from two seats to Peter's right. Peter turned to see a lanky blond boy looking in amusement at Peter’s hand which was still tapping absentmindedly against the keys. "As _boring_ as this subject is, could you please not tap like that?"

"Oh sorry," Peter said his hand stilling before he could begin the sequence of taps again. The boy turned his attention back to the front of the lecture and Peter followed his gaze.

2,1 4,3 2,4 5,1 4,1

When tapped out in Binary Tap Code it spelled b.o.r.e.d, MJ had taught it to him over the Summer and like Morse code and other tap codes Peter had taken a liking to it, as he so often did with such things. He shouldn't have been surprised that someone else in the lecture hall would pick up on such a common code. There were any number of geniuses in this very room, and any number of them might be familiar with the tap code. That was just something he would have to get used to, now that he was at Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

"Alright, I’m beginning to see a few too many glazed eyes out there and I know how excited all of you are to have a few days off this week, so I'll wrap it up here." Said the middle-aged man at the front, shutting his presentation down. Peter shifted in the cramped chair, closing his laptop and reaching slowly for the satchel by his feet.

"Happy Thanksgiving." The lecturer said excusing the students who all made a grab for their things in a hurry to leave. Peter practically launched himself out of his seat, wincing as knocked his knee painfully on the top of the desk. Despite that, he was still one of the first to duck out of the lecture hall, eager to begin the four-day weekend that students had been given for Thanksgiving break.

Peter walked swiftly down the hall and out of the building. In his hurry to get away he was still carrying his computer science and coding textbook and busied himself with trying to shove it into his satchel. He found it slightly ironic that MIT still used physical textbooks where they could, but nevertheless enjoyed the bulky presence of it. If anything, it made him feel like he was actually doing something in the course instead of throwing money at a unit he technically should have been able to bypass.

Peter felt confident in what he had chosen to study, particularly considering the hours of deliberation that had gone into making that choice. He knew that he wanted to study computing and knew that such knowledge would be incredibly useful if he wished to progress in the temporary position at Stark Industries that he had taken up in June. Electrical engineering and computer science had been a sensible choice considering what Peter wanted to do and what he was interested in. Chemical engineering and civil and environmental engineering had also caught his eye and Peter hoped he might get to take on a few subjects from those areas if he got the chance. For now, he was more than happy with the subjects he had selected…all except one.

Peter really enjoyed coding, but the Introduction to Computer Science subject, the lecture of which he had just hastily departed, was a _foundation_ subject for _beginners_ and used Python programming which Peter had been using for _years._

Back when he had been taken on as a sort of technical intern/ superhero intern at Stark Industries under the guidance of Tony Stark, Peter had been introduced to Python and a multitude of other programming languages. He still had a lot to learn for sure, but this class was designed for novices and so Peter found himself growing more and more frustrated with the compulsory subject. It didn't help that the course was structured to move at snail’s pace despite the fact that there were likely numerous students in the class, like Peter, who had previous coding experience.

For now, Peter just had to grit his teeth and get on with things. He still did all the work but couldn’t help cutting corners here and there where he already knew what to do. It was just immensely frustrating having to sit through the lectures and classes when there were a million and one _other_ things that he had to take care of.

Peter pushed open the door and exited the lecture hall's building, walking as quickly as he could without running, in the direction of his dorm. He darted in and out of crowds of students heading to or from lectures and within minutes he had reached his building. He swiped his key card and ducked inside, eager to get out of the chill that had set in across campus, winter was definitely approaching.

Peter paused at the small mail room on the ground floor of his building to check and see if anything had arrived for him. Sure enough, a package was sitting in the P section of the pigeon holes, it was small, and he knew the part inside of it was even smaller. Peter snatched it and quickly checked its address to ensure that it was the one intended for him.

His name was printed on the top in the neat writing of none other than Happy Hogan. The package was wrapped in a ring of red confidential tape just in case whoever was delivering it hadn't garnered that information from the confidential sticker on one of the box's corners. Being head of security at SI, Happy always got a little paranoid about sending Peter such expensive and (potentially) dangerous parts. Peter assured Happy that the postal system was reliable and promised to only ask for parts when he was desperate and needed them sooner than whenever his next trip to New York might be. Peter was honestly surprised that Happy didn't deliver the package himself, or at least send an SI drone to do so for him. 

Peter left the mail room and, walking past the elevator, took the stairs two at a time until he had reached the fourth floor.

Scanning his student key card again Peter walked into the 6-bedroom west wing of floor 4, outfitted with a small kitchen, two bathrooms and a reasonably sized common space. It was quiet inside the flat and Peter suspected it was empty, he couldn't hear anything beyond the closed doors he walked past and assumed that everyone who wasn't in class had already gone home for Thanksgiving weekend.

Peter's room itself was small, split down the middle with a bed, desk and wardrobe on either side. He shared it with a guy from Boston called Nic Spencer. He was short with a mop of dark hair and a walk that made most people avoid him, but in the short two months they had been living together Peter had discovered that Nic was actually a huge softie and loved rom coms and Ed Sheeran. He was an easy enough guy to get along with and had the perfect boy next door personality, even if his appearance didn't quite match up with it. Thankfully, Nic was good at knowing when to respect Peter's space. Living together definitely made you more intuitive to the other persons needs and Peter knew when to stay out of Nic's way when he was in a funk, whether that be over college work or a malfunction in the small but fully operational hydroponic system that he had set up on their windowsill.

At present, their room was empty and quiet, save for the goldfish sat on Nic's desk and the quiet whir of the pump for the hydroponic. Peter's side of the room was unusually organised as he had done a quick clean that morning, not wanting to leave it in a state that he'd have to deal with once he came back next Tuesday. Normally, his side tended to get a little bit messy, particularly when his Stark Industries work or his Avengers work or even just plain college work started getting a little too much. The last few weeks had Peter stretched thin, trying to balance endless responsibilities while ensuring that each of his assignments was handed in on time, naturally his room had gotten pretty bad pretty quickly as he started getting home from the library later and later, pausing only to change and leave his clothes on the ground before getting to bed. For the most part, Nic didn’t seem to mind and often times his side of the room was no better.

Peter dropped his satchel onto his desk chair and rolled his shoulder. May had insisted on buying it for him before he left New York, saying that a backpack made him look even more like a high schooler. Not exactly what Peter had needed to hear before moving states to a completely new life, with new friends and new experiences.

It wasn't completely new though. Peter received his scholarship at MIT pretty late (he suspected that taking up his position at Stark Industries had some part to play) but his best friend Ned Leeds had known about his place for weeks before Peter had even been accepted, let alone awarded the scholarship. They'd both been incredibly excited to move together and had applied to the same preference of residential halls only to find they were placed in completely different dorms, likely due to the College's stressing of making ‘new connections’. Nevertheless, Peter was grateful to have Ned there and even if they didn't live in the same halls of residence, they still saw each other every day and texted when they didn't.

Swapping out his satchel for his trusty backpack Peter added his phone, wallet and newly acquired package to the bag and zipped it up tightly. Happy would literally kill Peter if that part got lost.

Doing a quick scan to ensure that he hadn't left anything behind, as Peter was always careful to do following an unfortunate incident at the beginning of the semester when he had left out his Stark Industries tablet on his bed before going to class. Nic's eyes had been full of questions when Peter had returned to their room later that day. Peter could have sworn that the tablet was in a slightly different position to where it had been when he left and though he was certain that Karen would have alerted him if anyone besides him was using the tablet, it still made Peter antsy. After that he was even more sure that he had made the right decision in choosing not to keep _any_ of his Spidey tech, including the suit, in his room. It was too much of a risk. So was not having his suit with him 24/7, a thought which had kept Peter awake endlessly for the first few weeks until he had finally decided on keeping a pair of web shooters with him at all times.

Deciding that everything was in its right place, Peter shut the door firmly behind him and headed straight back down the corridor he had been in moments earlier. Now there was the faint trilling of music coming from Sam and Lily's room. Peter considered knocking on the slightly ajar door to say goodbye before the short Thanksgiving break but decided he was too awkward and ducked out the front door of their flat.

Even before moving, Peter knew that he was going to need a place to work outside of his room. After receiving his work contract from Stark Industries' CEO in May and after many discussions with his aunt and a few amendments to the conditions, he had started working in June. Peter had loved that summer break spent at Stark Industries and for the first time since the Snap he had found himself feeling like he had before disappearing along with half of the population five years earlier. The job had given him the instant gratification of putting his brain to work after so many weeks of hardcore studying for finals. In the few months he spent working part time at SI before moving away from New York Peter felt like his brain shifted and it had been strange to begin studying again, regardless of how useful the knowledge he was gaining was to his part time work.

Before moving at the very end of August Peter had done a quick property search for the cheapest places nearby to rent some sort of workspace. Pepper had offered to help him with the money given that Peter would be doing work for SI there, but peter had insisted on covering it himself.

Peter had reached the ground floor of his building again and burst out the doors, darting around the corner and unlocking his bike from where it was chained with a dozen or so others. Swinging a leg haphazardly over the seat Peter kicked off and started peddling hard past the other residential halls and out into the suburban streets.

He had happened upon the warehouse by surprise and at first it had seemed ludicrous to rent such a large space. All Peter really needed was a secure place to keep his suits and tech while he was working on them. Most of his equipment was remaining at his private SI lab, or the 'Spidey Cave' as May so often called it.

Once Peter had seen the photos of the space’s open plan, the exposed brick wall that bordered one side and the towering windows of the second floor of the old factory warehouse he felt like the decision had been made automatically. It was priced decently, and the deposit wasn’t too crippling, plus the electrical advantages of it being located so close to a power grid was undeniable. Within the day Peter had placed an offer and within a few days the paperwork was signed, and the deposit money gone from his account. Thankfully he had been working at SI otherwise there was no way he could have even dreamed of having a space like the warehouse.

The one disadvantage was that it was a twenty-minute bike ride away from where he lived. Compared to the exertion Peter was used to, it wasn’t much of a hassle and if anything, it was actually a good opportunity to get some exercise now that Peter wasn’t swinging around the city every night. He tried to go out as often as he could but being seen as Spider-Man near MIT and not in New York made him uncomfortable, surely the people he knew could put two and two together if they heard about it? Not to mention the press, who were getting more and more antsy about his identity, he had already been photographed twice while out at night in Massachusetts, resulting in the Avengers releasing a statement that claimed the blurry photos were of copycats and the real Spider-Man was still residing in New York. Luckily, Peter went back home every other weekend which made the tale as believable as it needed to be. 

Peter rounded the last corner and pulled up to the warehouse, breaking as he arrived at the front door and pulling out his keys. He slotted the small key, one of the few physical keys he actually owned given that so many things were key card operated at the college and Stark Industries and turned it. The door opened stiffly outwards and Peter walked down the entry way past the windows that looked into the space of one of the other tenants. Peter had never seen or heard from whoever occupied the ground floor space, but the pealing sign stuck to one of the frosted glass windows read _Simple Phone Plans Call Centre_ which was pretty self-explanatory. Peter walked his bike past the glass and to the stairs leading to the second floor. He took them slowly as he navigated the awkward frame of his bike up and round the flight of dank stairs.

The whole bottom half of the warehouse and the entrance made it a rather unappealing place. Whatever paint was left on the walls was peeling and stained and the air in the stairwell had the uncomfortably pungent tang of urine and sulphur.

The warehouse's grimy interior (and indeed, exterior) had deterred Peter initially and he had worried that his work at Stark Industries and the first-class facilities he was used to had made him snobby. That still didn't make up for the state that the warehouse was in… but it was cheap and relatively close, and his floor was actually quite pleasant compared to the rest of the building… plus who would expect such a place to house information worth thousands of dollars?

Peter reached the top of the stairwell and set his bike on the two hooks he had installed on the wall, suspending it next to the door. Once they felt the weight the mechanised black hooks locked the bike frame in place. The door was another one of Peter's alteration. Even if no one would think to rob the warehouse, Peter wasn't about to leave expensive equipment unguarded. As a result, he had ordered one of the special scanners that was used throughout SI and programmed it to accept his clearance card that he used at his lab back in New York.

Peter pulled out a little black box from his backpack, something he had made right after he'd had the distinct suspicion that Nic had looked through some of his things. Holding the thin device up to his face Peter stopped blinking and allowed the machine to take a scan of his eye.

"Retina scan complete." A small voice said, and the black box emitted a soft click as it released its bottom panel. Peter slid it open further and retrieved his SI clearance card, embossed on both sides with the Spider-Man and Avengers logos.

At first, he had wondered whether it was a better idea to just keep his Avengers/Spider-Man clearance card back in New York but after the first week of waking up at 4 in the morning and getting nervous about it being stolen, he had decided to bring it to college with him. The black box had been a natural addition to security and if anyone except Peter's eye was scanned it was programmed to self-destruct, card and all. What Peter might do if that ever happened and how he would get into his lab was a sort of ‘cross that bridge when we come to’ it kinda thing.

Removing the SI card fully Peter pressed it up to the scanner on the door and heard several clicks as the door recognised him and unlocked, disabling the numerous alarms Peter had set on the doors and windows and roof…. And pretty much any other entrance into the top floor of the warehouse.

Peter sometimes wondered if he was paranoid.

As the door swung open Peter took a relieved look out at his work space. The floors creaked as he stepped forward, swinging the door firmly closed behind him. Back when Peter had first leased the top floor he had been concerned about the structure of the building and the parts of the floor that felt far too weak for comfort. A quick trip down to _Simple Phone Plans_ and a few swings around the rafters reinforcing their ceiling with translucent webs had set his mind to rest.

Peter dumped his backpack on the workbench, taking out the small package and tore the side off to get at the bubble wrapped part beneath. He unwrapped it fully and set it on top of his holo-table, one of the few pieces of equipment that he had brought with him from SI.

"Karen, Happy sent me that part, can you make sure everything is in order?"

"Sure thing, Peter." Karen said back to him from the cheap speakers Peter had placed in each corner of the room.

Peter was sure that everything was in order with the part but there wasn't really much he could do until next week. The part had been scheduled to arrive on Monday after he’d asked Happy to send it out on Sunday for next day delivery. Peter had been working feverishly all weekend on his current project and had been desperate for the part to accelerate his experimentation and get one step closer to-- Well regardless, it hadn’t arrived in time so there wasn’t much point doing anything about it now.

Peter walked over to his mini fridge in the corner of the room and retrieved a soda, popping the cap off and ditching it into the bin in the opposite side of the lab, listening to the satisfying sound of it hitting tin.

The lab was open plan, just as Peter liked it, allowing for plenty of space for him to move around (and swing from the rafters when testing out his webs - or just for fun). A long mismatched combination of tables of different heights and shapes made up a long work top, scattered with tech and tools that Peter had left out the night before. Peter thought it was endearing in its unevenness even if most of it was from second hand shops or dumpsters. In fact, he had grown so proud of the finished product and the fact that _most_ of the tables were pretty sturdy that he had sent a photo to Happy. Naturally, Happy had shown Pepper the photo who was apparently mildly horrified and had asked Peter if she could share the lease or at least buy him a proper workspace. Peter had declined, he liked the responsibility. Pepper had let it go… but not before she had an _incredibly_ comfortable couch delivered to the lab. He had _almost_ returned it, but it proved so useful for nights when Peter didn't feel like going back to his halls of residence and could just collapse on the couch instead that he had agreed to keep it.

The couch was currently pressed up against the exposed brick wall that bordered one side of the workspace. Down from the couch was a lone glass case with his Spidey suit standing upright and ready for Peter to wear, not that he really had the chance these days. Between his college work, Stark Industries and his own _personal_ projects Peter was flat out… and that wasn't taking into consideration the obligations he had back in New York as Spider-Man and to the Avengers.

"Peter, just a reminder than Happy will be picking you up in an hour." A voice crackled over Peter's makeshift speakers.

"Thanks George." Peter said sipping at his soda as he walked back over to his worktop. George was his new AI. Peter had always wanted to develop his own artificial intelligence and as such had spent most of his spare time over the Summer developing George. He was a simple piece of organising software that was programmed to basically run Peter's life and take care of the smaller things that Peter felt a little bad giving to such a high line computer like Karen. Though he used George as a sort of daily planner and time manager at the moment, his abilities could be developed to manage organisations as big as Stark Industries. George's framework had been buried deep in one of the files that Tony had left on the hard drive for Peter. Back then the AI had been incomplete with only a basic scaffold and it had taken Peter weeks to get the hang of the programming and design.

"If you get the 12:14 bus you should arrive just in time to meet him." George replied.

"Sure thing!" Peter said setting his can down on the bench and walking over to the window to look outside.

Despite the convenience of the lab’s proximity to a power grid and his college, and its run-down appearance that made it a wolf in sheep's clothing, what had really won Peter over had been the windows.

Just like the Lab back at SI, one side of the warehouse was made up of floor to ceiling windows - an odd feature Peter thought, though he didn't really know what the space was used for before it was put out to let. The windows meant that during the day Peter didn't even bother turning the lights on, allowing him to redirect the remaining power to his other tech and significantly decreasing the risk of migraines and sensory overload. It was incredibly freeing to have such an open space compared with his shared room and the cramped lecture halls at MIT. Naturally, since moving away from home the new lab had become a sort of escape for Peter.

"The new addition to project Chronos has cleared all my checks but will take a while to assemble with the current model." Karen said. "Shall we store it securely until you get back from your trip?"

"Yeah we might as well." Peter said in dismay turning away from the window and sighing. It had become frustrating with all of the equipment he needed back at his SI lab and only the bare minimum here at his Massachusetts lab. He tried to work on his SI projects as much as he could, but a lot of the physical things had to be done in person, hence part of his reasons for returning to New York every other week. He had tried putting robots to work to assemble some of his projects but always relished the satisfaction of putting the prototypes together himself when he had the time.

"Your bus will arrive in approximately eight minutes sir; shall I purchase a pass for you?" George asked as Peter started locking the place up.

"That'd be great thank you George." Peter replied, walking past the windows and checking the scanner at the base of each which was constantly on, ready to detect any intruder and alert Peter and Karen immediately.

"Also, sir, a reminder that you have three unread messages from MJ, an Instagram message from Ned and as requested, I have compiled today’s news according to anything you may find interesting as well as any articles mentioning Spider-Man."

"That’s awesome!" Peter said beaming, he'd only managed to get George to run expansive media searches recently and even then, he usually malfunctioned because something in Peter's coding wasn't correct. "Great job George!"

"I try my best, sir."

"I've told you before, you don't need to call me sir, at least not until I'm like 25 or something." Peter said smiling still as he strode over to the Spidey suit stored securely in its case. Spider-Man hadn't been in New York for two weeks and the press would start getting suspicious if he didn't show up soon.

"Of course, sir." George said before hastily correcting himself "I mean, of course."

Peter hummed tunelessly as the lock on the suit scanned his eye and recognised him. The glass hissed slightly as it slowly slid back to reveal his suit in all its glory.

To tell the truth, Peter felt kind of deprived of it when he wasn't using it. Compared to months ago when he couldn't get in the suit without crippling panic attacks, he now relished his time wearing it, as rare as it was becoming these days.

Peter picked the suit up by the shoulders and felt it being released by the stand that held it upright within the case. Peter held it before him to admire it. He had created a third suit since working at Stark Industries, one that was personal to him and had his own design and embellishments, it was an excellent suit. That didn't stop Peter from coming back to his original suit every time. It may not have been strong or intuitive as the Iron Spider suit or have as many capabilities as his new Spider-Man suit, but it was still important to him. Tony Stark had given Peter many things, a place of work where he could actually do something with his brain, incredible tech to experiment with, a hard drive containing terabytes of knowledge that most of the world would kill for, among other things. But the most important thing that Tony had given Peter was the ability to be a real Super Hero, he had taken Peter under his wing and brought him into the world of the Avengers where Peter felt he could really make a difference. So, Peter held onto the Mark 1.

Heading over to the grey blue couch that Pepper had bought him, Peter carefully folded the suit up and put it in the duffle bag he was taking back to New York for Thanksgiving.

College had been crazy recently and it would be nice to get away from all his school work, even if that just meant turning to his work at Stark Industries or Spider-Man or the number of other commitments he had to the Avengers. Peter's brain seemed to strain and throb just thinking about the number of things he had to get done. He took a deep breath in through his nose and held for a moment, focusing on his heartbeat and then expanding his senses to the space around him, the fly buzzing up near the top of one of the windows, the soft thrumming of the electricity that powered his security system from the surprisingly unassuming box fixed to the far wall, to the feeling of his fingers brushing against the fibres of his duffle bag. He breathed out slowly.

"Your bus is due in four minutes, Peter." George said over the speakers and Peter darted his head up to glance at the clock sitting on one end of his workbench.

"Right." Peter said nodding and zipping up the duffle bag and slinging it over a shoulder. "Karen?"

"All systems locked down for your departure, Peter." Karen said as Peter grabbed his keys, phone and the black notebook with most of his Stark Industries research notes.

"Alright then." Peter turned, hefting his duffle bag and giving his lab a once over, walking backwards a few paces before deciding that everything was as it should be and heading for the door. "You're in charge while we are away George, anything happens you let me know."

"Yes sir." George crackled over the speakers as Peter shut the door behind him and waited patiently as it locked behind him. Unlike Karen, George's system was still so new and at times unstable, that Peter didn't really want to mobilise the AI quite yet, as useful as that might be. Peter had to admit that leaving a set of eyes… or rather a computer brain capable of keeping an 'eye' on things, made him feel a good deal more comfortable about leaving his equipment in the warehouse lab. Karen on the other hand, accompanied Peter everywhere these days, whether it was in his SI tablet, his SI earpieces, the Spidey suit or occasionally his phone

Peter dashed down the stairs, taking them two at a time and jumping from the fourth stair to the ground floor once he reached the end. A quick glance at his watch told him that four minutes had become two and that if he didn't hurry, he wouldn't make it to the bus. 

After a quick glance to make sure no one was watching, Peter jumped up onto the rooftop of the small block of apartments next to the warehouse and began hopping his way from building to building. Peter reached the bus stop with thirty seconds to spare, his research notebook clasped tightly to his chest and his head full of thoughts of home. This weekend was hopefully going to be an escape from his work and responsibilities, hopefully he'd get to spend some time with MJ and his family and come back to college rested and rejuvenated. It was a naïve thought, Peter knew it, but despite that he still had hope that this weekend would serve more than four days of more work. Little did he know, fate had other plans.


	2. Returning and Reacquainting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this has taken a while to update!!  
> I've recently moved countries and wifi is spotty at best and I can't use my data most of the time so it's been difficult to update :( 
> 
> I hope that you enjoy this sequel! I have big things coming so keep an eye on this work :) 
> 
> If you want a better idea of when I'll update or want to be friends feel free to follow me on Tumblr @visionsofus 💜

"You eat instant food _how_ many times a week?" Happy Hogan choked out spinning to face Peter. He looked slightly aghast.

After getting his bus Peter had met Happy at the airport and they had both proceeded onto the Stark Industries jet. They had just landed in New York after an uneventful hour-long flight from Boston. 

"Um…" Peter said thinking about it for a second as he hefted his duffle bag over his shoulder. "Probably like five nights a week? Depends on my work load and if anyone is cooking in the flat."

"Five nights-" Happy sputtered and shook his head. "Peter, just because you have a fast metabolism doesn't mean you can eat microwave food every night!"

"I know, I know." Peter said following Happy down the stairs that lead from the jet to the tarmac of the air strip. "Please don't tell May."

"You bet I'm telling her, right after I cook a nice lasagne so you can have something real to eat." Happy said shaking his head as he led Peter over to the car which was ready waiting for them.

"You cook?" Peter said, his tone disbelieving.

"No need to sound so surprised." Happy grumbled opening the driver’s side of the car.

"I didn't-" Peter said stopping by the passenger door and raising his hands in defence but grinning nonetheless.

"I'll have you know your aunt loves my cooking." Happy said pointing a joking, yet simultaneously accusatory finger at Peter.

"Yeah yeah, I don't need to hear anything else about _that_." Peter said surrendering and getting into the car.

"That's what I thought." Happy muttered triumphantly starting the car’s engine and pulling away from the air strip. Despite himself, Happy smiled sideways at Peter. "It's good to have you back kid."

Peter grinned in return. This drive had become routine for Peter since he had moved to MIT. Each weekend, or at least every other if he didn't have the time to spare, Happy would fly down to Massachusetts to pick Peter up. The routine worked remarkably well, on most Friday’s Peter’s last class was at 11am so he pretty much had the whole afternoon to get back to New York. Peter wasn't entirely sure why Happy came himself when there was likely any number of other SI staff members who could make the trip. Peter couldn’t help the guilt that he felt each time they made the journey and had tried to convince Pepper that he was just as useful in Massachusetts as he was in New York. Pepper tried her best to assure Peter that it wasn't a hassle and for his part, Peter tried not to let it bother him. 

"Anything been happening in New York that I've missed?" Peter asked shifting in the comfortable seat and turning his head to watch the familiar scenery flash past.

"Not really, things have been quite busy with everything happening this weekend - speaking of which…" Happy said almost to himself, flicking on the indicator and switching lanes.

"Whattt…." Peter began and watched as the car diverted from the familiar route that they normally took.

"Pepper needed me to pick up Morgan after I picked you up." Happy explained indicating again and changing lanes before pressing his foot to the accelerator - sending them down the highway at a speed that made even Peter's teeth chatter a little.

The drive passed quickly, and not just because of Happy's driving. Everything seemed to be moving fast for Peter these days - all his deadlines with school or SI or the Avengers seemed to approach far too quickly. At some point along the drive Happy put the radio on and flicked between stations for a bit before giving up when he realised that all that was playing was advertisements or trashy music. They talked a little here and there, but most Peter had his black research notebook open and was scribbling down thoughts and equations as they came to him.

"You really got to learn to take a break otherwise you're going to burn out kid." Happy said his voice tinged with concern.

"You've been spending too much time around May," Peter said shrugging and striking through a line of working out as he spoke, "I'm _fine."_

"May might be pretty on top of that whole healthy lifestyle balance stuff but that isn't where I've learnt it from. I know that look Peter." Happy said taking a left.

"Hmm?" Peter murmured glancing up from his paper as Happy pulled the car into the carpark out front of Morgan's school.

"I know that look," Happy repeated looking slightly peeved at Peter’s seeming indifference to what he was saying but the irritation was overshadowed by the concern in his eyes, "because I saw it every time Tony was working on a project and hadn't left the house in three weeks."

Peter's pen fell slack in his hand, and he capped the ballpoint, swallowing nervously. What was he supposed to say to that? There wasn't much he could do right now about taking a break; his current projects and college workload didn’t allow for breaks.

"I'm fine Hap, really." Peter said lifting his eyes to meet the older man’s gaze and smiled convincingly. "Don't worry."

Happy seemed to doubt this for a second but Peter put on his best relaxed smile and Happy, finally, relented. "Alright then, Morgan's in there go and get her."

"What?"

"Come on the bell rung ten minutes ago and she's waiting."

"Why am I going?"

"Her teacher has a bit of a thing for me and it makes me uncomfortable." Happy said somehow managing to look a little pleased with himself as he said it.

"Righttttt…" Peter said shoving his notebook into his duffle bag along with his pen. "Remember what I said about you hurting May?"

"Relax kid, that's why I’m sending you in instead. And like I'd ever dare do anything to wrong that woman." Happy shook his head in disbelief as though the very idea was absurd.

"Yeah you're one lucky guy you remember that ok? Otherwise-"

"Yeah yeah I get it, just go get her." Happy said smiling as Peter shut the door behind him and strode off towards the reception of the school.

As Peter stepped through the entrance doors and glanced at the imposing red brick of the surrounding walls, he realised that he didn't know which classroom Morgan was even in. That wasn't much of a problem because almost as soon as the glass door to reception had thudded softly behind him, did he hear the high-pitched voice of Morgan Stark.

"Peter!" She cried jumping up from the row of seats that she had been perched at along with several other students whose parents hadn't picked them up yet. A woman with horn rimmed glasses and a tight, brunette bun had been overseeing the students and turned to see the visitor. Based on her appearance, Peter figured she was the strict type, however at seeing who had come through the doors there was only one word that could possibly describe her expression; disappointment. Peter felt the faint urge to laugh.

"Hey Morgan." Peter said crouching slightly to give Tony and Pepper’s daughter a hug.

"I though Happy was picking me up?" She said looking up at him with slightly furrowed brows.

"He's just waiting out in the car." Peter assured her and then pouted playfully, "does that mean you aren't excited to see me?"

"Nooo…" Morgan whined, "that's not what I meant."

Peter laughed and squeezed her shoulder, "I know I'm just kidding, come on let's go."

He took her tiny, red backpack from her shoulders and held it in one hand, using the other to take Morgan's hand as she led the way out of the school building. Peter smiled a sort of goodbye to the teacher who had been minding the children and tried not to laugh as she looked slightly forlornly after them as they exited the building. He had honestly thought Happy had been joking but it seemed he had been 100% serious.

"How long are you back for?" Morgan said swinging Peter's arm back and forth between them as they strolled down the meticulously manicured lawns to Happy's waiting sedan in the carpark.

"Just for Thanksgiving." Peter said swinging her arm back.

"Oh." Morgan said disappointedly.

"But I'll be back in two weeks for a longer break over Christmas." Peter assured her as they reached the car and he opened the back door for her.

"Hey kiddo how was school?" Happy said craning his head around as Morgan hopped up into the car.

"Good." Morgan said sweetly, smiling as Peter helped her with her seatbelt.

"The first thing she did was ask where you were." Peter said frowning as he clicked Morgan's seatbelt in securely and shut her door to get in on his own side.

Happy gasped in fake enthusiasm and Peter pretended to sulk. "That's not what I meant." Morgan complained and stuck her tongue out at Peter.

"Seriously! I'm gone for two weeks and suddenly you're the favourite?" Peter said throwing his hands up in fake outrage as Happy pulled out of the parking lot.

"Peterrrr…" Morgan whined pretending to scowl at him but Peter just turned around and stuck his tongue out at her in response.

"Oh yeah real mature Pete, stick your tongue out at the five-year-old why don't you. You're supposed to be a positive role model." Happy said.

"I'm five and a half." Morgan snapped folding her arms and Happy sighed.

"Yes, you're right, my mistake, five and a half."

Peter slipped his key into the lock of his and May's apartment and twisted, listening for the tell-tale click of the mechanism. Peter had tried to convince her to let him install better, more technologically advanced locks but May had insisted that 'those things can be hacked - these old ones can't'. Naturally, Peter had responded with 'oh yeah of course, unless your guest has, I don't know… superpowers? Or a strong kick?'. This point hadn't dissuaded his aunt though, so his house key was the only 'real' key that Peter still had.

Peter had just been dropped out of the front of the building by Happy and Morgan before they both continued onto Stark Industries where Pepper was waiting. Morgan had been reluctant for Peter to leave but Peter had departed with the promise of being at Thanksgiving lunch the next day.

Peter stepped over the threshold of the apartment. All things considered, he hadn’t actually spent a lot of time in there. Between working in the SI lab over the Summer, often staying overnight, and then moving in October, Peter didn’t feel the place was really home at all. Their old apartment had been lost during the five-year gap after the landlady had put it out to let, given that May and Peter weren’t exactly around to pay the mounting rent.

Peter dumped his duffle bag on one of the chairs sticking out next to the dining table and sighed. May clearly wasn't home yet. Peter slouched over to the kitchen and turned the tap on, cupping his hands beneath the spout and splashing his face with chilly water. It did the trick and he felt a little more alert as he swiped the water from his eyes. Suddenly noticing that thirst had crept up on him he extended his arm in the direction of the shelves on the left. He bent his fingers to his palm and waited expectantly for the cup to fly off the shelf and into his palm. Ok… so maybe the cold water hadn't done quite a good enough job of waking him up.

Peter almost laughed at himself as he walked over to retrieve a cup manually, perhaps he had been wearing his web shooters too often in the lab back at MIT. Peter filled the cup up and guzzled the water, he hadn't realised quite the extent of his need for hydration. Probably not a good sign, Peter thought as he set the glass down next to the sink.

“Peter?” May’s voice came from the front door and Peter ducked out of the kitchen and into the entry hall to receive her.

“Hey May.” Peter grinned walking up to his aunt and giving her a tight hug.

“Honey how come you didn’t close the door after you?” May asked drawing back and frowning at the door she had just come through.

“Oh… huh I guess I just forgot.” Peter shrugged and reached past her to shut it firmly.

Peter didn’t see the concern in his aunt’s eyes as he went back into the dining room and sat at the table.

“How are you doing? Everything good with college?”

“Yeah everything is great, classes all going smoothly.” Peter said shrugging and tapping his fingers absentmindedly on the worn wood of the dining table. It was the same one they’d had in the old apartment, Lisa, their elderly landlady, had been kind enough to put their old furniture in a storage unit. There had been a lot of that during the five years post-Snap, people holding onto the things that their relatives and friends had left behind as though they might return. It restored a little of Peter’s faith in humanity.

“And everything else? How have you been feeling?” May asked as she walked into the kitchen and put the kettle on to make her usual cup of tea that Peter knew she had each day when she got back from work. She started each day with coffee and ended it with a cup of tea and had done for as long as Peter could remember.

“Pretty good, a little tired but otherwise I’m fine. Looking forward to the Christmas break though.” Peter said laughing as he unzipped his duffle bag and retrieved his black notebook.

“I bet you are.” May said above the bubbling whine of the kettle. “Any assignments due this week? Do they give you a break for Thanksgiving?”

“Not this week but two next week,” Peter called back scrawling a few notes down and pulling his Stark Industries tablet out to compare with the schematics from his lab back at MIT. As he opened the tablet a series of notifications flashed up. “I’ll have to get them done on Monday and Tuesday because I have stuff to do this weekend.” The notifications were evidence enough of that and Peter swiped them away for later.

“I know you’re busy and you have a lot of responsibilities, but can you take at least one day off this weekend? You’ve got four days off college and you haven’t been home in two weeks.”

“I’ve already taken most of today off.” Peter replied half paying attention to the conversation and half working on the numbers in front of him.

“Well no more working today ok?” May said walking over and shutting his notebook.

“Peter, reminder that you have unanswered messages from MJ regarding your pre-arranged meeting this afternoon.” Karen said from his tablet.

“Shit.” Peter muttered. 

Peter opened up his messages on the tablet and looked at what MJ had sent him earlier that morning.

_MJ: We’re still on for 5 today right? 8:32a.m._

_MJ: Peter come on! Answer??? 10:02 a.m._

_MJ: ur literally constantly around technology pls answer 3:21 p.m._

Peter groaned and ran a hand over his face.

“How are things going with MJ?” May asked genially as she came over to the table and sat in the chair at the head of it.

“I don’t really know May.” Peter said shaking his head and rubbing at his eyes. “It’s hard being far away from each other and we don’t get to talk a lot.”

“You mean, you don’t make the time to talk a lot.” May said wryly and Peter scowled. “It’s not about having the free time to talk it’s about making the time.” She dunked the tea bag in and out of the boiling water of her mug thoughtfully.

Peter didn’t really know what to say to that, so he just made a noise of agreement and typed a note back to MJ.

_Peter: Sorry! Been a crazy day but yes all on for tonight. 3:46 p.m._

_Peter: looking forward to seeing u! 3:46 p.m._

As an afterthought, he added the second message to make up for not answering her sooner.

“I’ll be out tonight.” Peter told May, reluctantly turning off his tablet once the messages were sent.

“Don’t forget the appointment I made for you at four.” She said sipping on her tea.

“What?” Peter said in confusion and mild despair. Perhaps he should have brought George with him, it seemed he wasn’t any good at keeping his own schedule under control without the AI. 

“Counselling with Dr Sam.” May said slowly as though that would make Peter remember the appointment any clearer. 

“What? Today but I thought—"

“I told you last time, each weekend you are back I am going to book an appointment for you because you refuse to get a new counsellor at MIT – you know the college offers student support services.” May said and Peter groaned as the lecturing began.

“I don’t need it anymore, May.” Peter insisted, pushing his fingers through his hair in frustration, “I’m fine.” It was the second time he’d had to tell someone that today and he couldn’t figure out for the life of him why no one was buying it.

“You’re fine when Dr Sam says you’re fine, once she gives you the all clear to stop your sessions then we can discuss that but for now I want you to keep going.” May said firmly before turning her attention to her cup of tea, which she blew on gently.

“I’m not grieving anymore, May.” Peter complained and the certainty with which he said it felt semi-real at least. “I’m really _fine.”_ This time he said it with the most convincing smile he could muster.

Soon after the memorial back in May, Peter had started seeing a psychologist by the name of Dr. Samantha Gregor. As per May’s orders, Peter had met with her for one hour, once a week on Thursday afternoons. Each session had followed a similar structure, Sam liked structure, ‘ _We need to bring back structure to your life, Peter’_ she’d say. Peter would talk for the first half of the session with Sam interjecting with bits of advice or the odd ‘ _tell me more about that’_. Peter found that once he got talking it was difficult to stop, there was something about Sam that just made the words tumble out of his mouth. Sometimes he would trail off and not be sure what to say next, expecting for Sam to jump in. Annoyingly, she would remain quiet and those silent moments as Sam waited patiently for him to talk was enough to get the words flowing again.

The second half of the session usually involved talking about coping mechanisms, discussing Peter’s day to day life and things he could potentially change to make it easier for him to move on and live in a new world. His first few sessions had focused quite a bit on getting Peter through the last few weeks of school because his grades had been falling, _‘considering everything, Peter, it is very normal for your performance to drop’_ Sam had assured him and by the end of the month Peter was more or less back on his feet school-wise.

Over the months Peter had gotten better and soon Sam’s voice in his head telling him to ‘ _breathe slower, remember your counting’_ or ‘ _don’t put your brick wall up Peter’_ had become his voice, sometimes cycling to Karen’s artificial voice, to May’s comforting tones, eventually coming back to his own voice. Sometimes it even became Tony’s voice telling Peter to breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth or count the number of blue things that he could see in the room with him. And as the months had gone on Peter had found himself less and less reliant on such techniques and finally felt himself falling back into a sense of normalcy. Going to MIT had been a blessing not just because of the opportunities but because Peter was moving away from a lot of what reminded him of Tony.

And as Peter had healed, he had found it easier to do the things that had once sent him into shivering panic attacks post Snap. Each day he woke up and tried to be better, do better, and follow the example that Tony had set even if his mentor had always said that he wanted Peter to be better than him.

As far as Peter was concerned, he was better now, in fact he was better than better. He was thriving at college and getting great grades, his work at Stark Industries was going well and so was everything with the Avengers. On the weekends he was Spider-Man and during the week he was Peter Parker. He had his best friend in one state and his sort of girlfriend in the other state. His life was great.

May’s fingers snapped in front of Peter’s face and he jumped. “Earth to Peter?”

“What?” He said shaking his head and coming back down to reality.

“I was saying it’s not just about the grief, this is about you learning to deal with anything else that might come your way. I know that you’ve chosen the Spider-Man path but that comes with—” 

“I know May,” Peter said putting on a smile, “and I’ll go to the session today ok? I’m sorry I just forgot that it was on that’s all.”

May frowned, apparently having expected more resistance and suspicious of Peter’s change of attitude. “Alright.” She said slowly, “You better get ready though because it starts at four.”

“I’ll go get changed,” Peter sighed getting to his feet and pushing the dining chair out behind him. “After counselling I’ll go straight to meet MJ is that alright?”

“All fine, just stay safe and text me when you know what time you’ll be home – don’t forget to take your keys.”

Peter nodded and smiled as he left May to finish her tea. He might be a genetically modified superhero capable of climbing walls and swinging from great heights but sometimes having someone worry about you was nice, even if there was little cause for it. If anything, it made Peter feel slightly normal again, which was always a nice feeling these days. It was something to distract him from his college work, Spider-Man pressures, his commitment to Stark Industries and the Avengers, and of course his top-secret personal project, Chronos.


	3. tapas and the truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it's been a while hasn't it... 
> 
> I really do apologise for taking so long to update but I ended up getting really ill at the beginning of going back to uni and it was just a pain to deal with so writing was sort of at the bottom of my list of priorities. 
> 
> Nevertheless I have returned with another chapter and I really hope that you all continue to enjoy this story! 
> 
> Thank you for your continued support - and for those who wished for an identity reveal in the previous story, this is for you.

Peter shoved his hands further into the pockets of his coat, a smart navy one that May had bought him as a graduation present, a bit of an odd gift considering that had been at the beginning of Summer. He was thankful for it now as it shielded him from the blustering wind that was turning his ears an unflattering shade of pink.

Peter loped down the stairs that led to the sidewalk from Dr Sam's clinic and started off in the direction of the Tapas restaurant that MJ had decided they meet at. Peter retrieved his phone from the pocket of his jeans and sent MJ a quick message letting her know that he was on his way. He breathed out a deep sigh as he waited for the crosswalk lights to change, tapping his foot as he watched the red man flash.

One more session down. Dr Sam had been glad to see him again and Peter was surprised by how much he had to tell her. Although, there was only so much he could say without revealing his identity. May had suggested that Peter tell her of his other identity, but Peter wasn't ready for anyone else to know he was Spider-Man quite yet. Instead, he got by with metaphors and twisting the truth a little. Besides, Sam knew the important things, Peter was an orphan, raised by his aunt and uncle, then just his aunt. When he was 15, he'd applied and been accepted as a Stark Industries intern and had developed a close mentor/mentee relationship with the founder of the company. He'd been one of the people lost in the Snap and the first thing he had seen when he got back (as far as Sam knew) was the news that Tony Stark was dead, another role model, another _father figure,_ gone. Not only that but Peter was facing rising pressure from the media who seemed to have got it into their heads that Peter was Tony’s protégé and was the ‘future’ of Stark Industries. The thought of that made Peter go weak at the knees with worry so he often pushed it from his mind.

Today's session had gone well, and, in the end, Peter was grateful that he had had it. Sam had pushed him a lot more than usual that afternoon, which Peter found odd. It was like she thought Peter wasn't telling her everything, but he wasn't sure what more he could say. She hadn't seemed to believe him when he said he'd 'let go of Mr Stark' and it irritated Peter how intuitive she could be.

A blip from Peter's phone alerted him of a text from MJ which read 'waiting outside the restaurant' and he quickened his pace. Peter cast all thoughts of the session, of work and every other thing that was stressing him out, from his mind and decided to focus on his meal with MJ. After all, he hadn't seen her in two weeks and while they talked regularly through text along with the occasional facetime, it definitely was not the same as being in the same place.

The Tapas restaurant that MJ had picked out was in their neighbourhood and within walking distance from both their houses if Peter remembered where MJ lived correctly.

Peter had had a quick look at the restaurant online last week when they had arranged to meet and had found it to be pretty affordable which was good considering they were both students. Though Peter sometimes forgot that he didn’t have to worry about that as much anymore now that he had a steady income from Stark Industries. May was all over his finances, helping him organise it into savings and spending accounts, even setting up a retirement fund. Peter thought it was a bit odd to have a retirement fund at his age and it made him think whether he actually would retire. Being an Avenger seemed to be a full-time job from what he had seen so far, and usually you didn’t live long enough to retire.

With that morbid thought in mind Peter rounded the corner and saw the red and yellow awning that extended above the restaurant front and beneath it, wrapped in a coat and a scarf, her hair bobbing in the wind, was MJ.

Peter couldn't stop the grin that broke out across his face as he called her name and raised a hand in greeting. He saw his smile returned on her own face as they moved towards each other.

“Hey loser.” She said her voice casual but her smile warm.

"It's so good to see you." Peter said suddenly growing a little shy as they hugged quickly.

"You too." MJ smiled and then shivered, "but can we get inside, it is _freezing_ out here."

The interior was everything that Peter has expected from a Tapas restaurant. It was warm and the air was filled with the sound of the chefs in the kitchen and the enthusiastic chattering of the restaurant’s patrons – a surprising number of tables were filled given how early in the evening it was. A waiter met Peter and MJ as they stepped over the threshold and directed them upstairs to the second floor where he assured them there were more tables and it was a little quieter.

“Oh…” MJ said and cast her gaze around the ground floor. It wasn’t a very large space and every table appeared to be taken. “What about that one by the window? Is that table taken?”

“No, if that’s alright with you, you can sit there. I’ll bring around menus in a moment.” The waiter said and smiled at them as MJ led the way over to the window.

“I thought this would be more authentic.” MJ said indicating the table before them. It was little more than a bench, risen quite far off the ground and pressed to the window with two dark wood stools to sit on.

“Perfect,” Peter said grinning, eager to catch up with her and not really caring where they actually sat. “So how have things been? I feel like we haven’t seen each other in ages.”

“It’s definitely been a long two weeks.” MJ said as they removed their coats and sat down at the stools. The waiter returned with two laminated menus in dark leather casings.

“Our specials are up by the bar,” the waiter said indicating behind him, “I’ll let you have a look and come back around in a bit to get your order for drinks.”

“Thank you.” Peter said accepting the menus from him and passing one to MJ.

“Ok this time can we figure out what we’re ordering before we start talking?” MJ said smiling wryly at Peter. “We don’t want a repeat of last time… or the time before that.”

“Or every other time we’ve gotten dinner.” Peter said grinning and opening his menu. MJ was referring to the unfortunate habit that they had gotten into by which they would be so excited to fill each in on their daily lives in their time apart, that they would forget about the food altogether.

Peter scanned the menu picking out a few dishes that he wanted to try and settled for a lemon and lime bitters as a drink

Having decided what he wanted he turned his attention to MJ whose brows was furrowed in concentration as she scanned the menu, deep in concentration. Peter could practically guess what she would go for from what he had seen on the menu. MJ wasn’t a strict vegetarian, but she avoided meat where she could and there were several delicious dishes that didn’t have meat that Peter thought might catch her interest.

His interest however, was focused on the person beside him. He took her in, from her hair and the way it was tucked delicately behind one ear, to her eyes which sparkled in the warm light above them, to the graceful slope of her neck.

“Done.” MJ said setting the menu down and shifting so that she was partly facing him.

“Same.” Peter said grinning stupidly. He just couldn’t stop smiling.

“So—” they both said at the same time.

Peter trailed of and laughed as MJ snickered. It was always like this, it usually took them a little time to slip back into the easy-going nature of their relationship.

“Sorry, you go first.” Peter said gesturing to MJ, and she leant forward as she laughed, her hair cascading from behind her shoulder as she did so. It made Peter want to reach out so he could brush it back and see her smile in all its beauty but before he could, she whipped her hand up to sweep her hair away once more.

“I was going to ask how you’ve been.” MJ said still smiling.

Peter grinned and hung his head as he tried not to laugh, he had been about to ask the same thing. “Ok so I was last here on the 9th? The 10th?” Peter wracked his brain trying to think, two weeks had seemed to pass with lightning speed and yet thinking back to the last weekend he had been in New York made it seem like years had passed.

“About.” MJ said shrugging and waiting for Peter to go on.

“Well,” Peter said shifting in his seat, so he was facing her more front on. “It’s just pretty normal you know? College has so much routine I have my timetable and I stick to it and it’s all almost boringly normal. I hear that Ned’s classes get a little more uneventful.”

“Yeah he said to ask you about the ‘chair incident’?” MJ said using finger quotes. 

“Oohhh.” Peter said nodding, “you’re gonna love this.”

Peter proceeded to tell MJ the story that Ned had told him on Monday. According to Ned, his professor had made a rather wild comment about climate change and the next day he walked into his classroom to find his chair on fire and written on his desk in sharpie was ‘feelin’ the heat yet Boseman?’.

“Yeah Mr Boseman was not impressed from what I’ve heard.” Peter said as MJ raised her hands in triumph as he finished the story.

“Gold! I wish I could have seen that.” She exclaimed grinning. “If someone had done that in my class, they probably would have gotten expelled.”

They continued chatting, updating each other on what had happened in the last two weeks that hadn’t been conveyed in texts or facetime. Peter told her about picking Morgan up that afternoon and the fact that Happy had an admirer at her school.

A waiter stopped by to take their order for drinks and food and their conversation was momentarily diverted as they both struggled to recall what they had decided to get.

As soon as the waiter made any movement to leave, they jumped back into their conversation. Peter was eager to hear about what was going on in MJ’s life.

“You’d think doing a double degree would make the work load even but somehow it’s not? I swear I’m overloaded in both degrees but according to the system that’s just how it works.” MJ complained running a hand through her hair in frustration.

Peter for his part tried to be as supportive as he could. Before graduating MJ had made the decision to pursue both Science and the Arts and had been invited to complete a double degree in Fine art and literature with her second qualification being a science degree in physics – which Peter thought she was mad to do but tried not to say anything discouraging. After all, the double degree meant that MJ could pursue her passions, art and literature, while still ‘giving myself up to the capitalist gods and concede to the view that the arts are no way to build a career’ to quote MJ directly, a phrase she often said accompanied by over the top hand gestures.

“If anyone can do it, it’s you.” Peter said genuinely. “And you’ve got a little break now, and then in a few weeks it’s the holidays and you’ll have all the free time you could want,” Peter shrugged and added slightly sarcastically, “plus... I mean I’ll be here too so, maybe that’ll be nice?” He twirled the straw in the drink before him. 

“That’s true.” MJ said thoughtfully.

“Which part?” Peter asked hopefully. 

“Hmm? All of it.” MJ said taking a sip of lemon, lime and biters and looked at Peter from the corner of her eye.

Peter felt his cheeks warm and he decided to take a sip of his own drink to cool them down. It was times like these that Peter wished they were a little more specific about where they stood. He knew he should just ask but it was a difficult topic to broach and he still wasn’t quite sure what he was to MJ.

Before the air could grow awkward a waiter returned with their meal, their series of dishes brought out on cute, mismatched plates and bowls.

As they ate Peter found his usual rhythm with MJ slipping back into place. After they had completely updated each other on everything that had happened in the past two weeks they bounced from topic to topic. Before Peter knew it, it was 7:30 and still the conversation showed no sign of letting up.

MJ had asked briefly about his Stark Industries work but she knew from experience that there was very little Peter was really allowed to talk about, so she generally tried to avoid putting him in a bad position.

“It’s a lot really,” Peter said in response to her query about his work. “I don’t think I really had any idea how full on it would be between college and SI and other things…”

Peter trailed off and felt that the conversation had taken a bit of a sombre turn and he didn’t want to start complaining, not when he was so grateful for his position at Stark Industries and his MIT scholarship.

“But I’ve made a lot of progress on the project I mentioned last time, I think I’m on the verge of a breakthrough.” Peter said. 

“You called it Chronos right?”

“Yep that’s the one.” Peter grinned, glad that she remembered. Peter hadn’t really told her a lot about it other than that it could potentially change a lot of people’s lives.

“Chronos was the Greek god of time, right? Is that why you chose it?” MJ said trying to draw some information out of Peter.

He shrugged, “Not really,” his heart twinged at the white lie, “all my projects are named like that, it makes them sound… I don’t know cool?”

“Ok what are some of the other ones called?”

“Oh, you know…” Peter mumbled bashfully, “Rogue One, Lazarus, Skywalker…”

“You’re such a nerd.” MJ said leaning her head on her hand as she looked at Peter with sparkling eyes. The air seemed to shift between them, and Peter felt as though something had changed.

“Are you ready for your plates to be taken?” A waiter said behind them and Peter started. The moment shattered. 

“Yes, thank you.” MJ said coolly and leant to the side as their dishes were gathered a cleared away.

“Alright, it’s quarter to eight so still early.” Peter said glancing at his phone. “Do you want to go get a coffee or something?” After two weeks apart, he wasn’t ready to leave MJ just yet.

“Sounds good.” MJ said grinning.

“So, I guess we’re ready to go then?” Peter said reaching down to retrieve his wallet from his coat.

“I think so.” MJ said following suit. 

“I’m just going to go to the bathroom,” Peter said gesturing clumsily over his shoulder, “but here’s my wallet to pay.” Peter said passing it to her, he knew it was a useless endeavour because MJ would probably just split it anyway, she always did.

She murmured something along the lines of ‘ok I will’ as she sifted through her purse and withdrew some money. Peter rolled his eyes but knew that it was useless to try and convince her to let him pay.

Peter left her at their little bench table and darted through the cramped restaurant, ducking past a waiter balancing an impressive number of plates and bowls. He followed the signs that directed him to the bathrooms at the back of the restaurant and followed a short staircase that lead to a small corridor.

Peter didn’t actually need to go to the bathroom… he just needed a moment to think without MJ there to read his facial expressions – which she was infuriatingly good at.

There had been a few moments tonight where Peter had really felt like they were onto something, like they could really be more than just friends. He wanted to broach the whole boyfriend/girlfriend exclusivity conversation with her.

Peter pushed open the door to the men’s room and, after seeing that it was devoid of any other restaurant goers, went straight to the mirror. He stood before it, hands on his hips as he scrutinised his reflection. He’d put on dark jeans and a navy-blue button down and a smart sweater over the top and he might have looked a little preppy but at least it was better than the alternative.

Peter ran a hand through his hair and spun around. “Hey MJ, I feel like this has been a long time coming—” he cut himself off with a groan as he shoved another hand through his hair. Were you even supposed to have these conversations? Didn’t things usually just work out how they were supposed to? All the movies seemed to tell you that once the guy kissed the girl then bam! that’s it, they were dating. Something told Peter that wasn’t quite what happened in real life, but he didn’t exactly have a whole lot of experience in this area.

“Y’know I really like you… I’ve liked you for a long time – I guess what I’m trying to say is will you be my girlfriend?” Peter groaned again, how could something so simple come across as that cheesy? He was in college now things were supposed to be different right? He was supposed to have shaken off that high school awkwardness.

“I’m just gonna go for it.” Peter said shrugging as he braced his arms against the sink and looked at his reflection with determination and a good amount of fear.

“Yeah, you go for it man!” A disembodied voice said from behind one of the toilet stalls and Peter almost jumped out of his skin. “Tell her how you feel!” The enthusiasm almost made him feel better but it was outweighed by the weirdness of the situation.

“Umm… thanks?” Peter said hesitantly mentally cringing at himself over the fact that some random stranger had just heard him rehearsing.

Peter didn’t wait for a reply and instead made a beeline for the exit and the welcoming glow of the warm restaurant floor.

Peter cast his eyes about for MJ, expecting to see her waiting by the door but instead found that she was still sat at the bench on one of the two stools that they had spent the evening at.

Peter strode over to her and when she noticed him coming MJ shifted slightly on her seat to see him.

His proposed question of ‘be my girlfriend’ was somewhat ready on his lips (though it was partially masked with a good deal of worry and awkwardness), but he stopped short when he saw what MJ was doing. She had a smug look on her face that made Peter want to backtrack all the way out the door.

That’s when he noticed it.

MJ had something in her hands.

She was spinning a sliver of what looked like reflective plastic between her thumbs and forefingers like she was a magician performing a card trick. The movement was mesmerising and Peter barely recognised that his feet were moving as he edged closer to their table.

MJ was focused on the card in her hands, her mouth upturned in a wry smile. Her eyes raised to his and Peter halted in his tracks, his heart thudding to a near stop as he met her eyes. They sparkled with amusement and something else deep past that, but he couldn’t quite identify the emotion.

That was when she held the card up with one hand so he could see it properly.

Peter shoulders dropped in absolute despair.

In MJ’s hands was his Stark Industries clearance card. Not the old Platinum X one, which might have been easier to explain, but the new one he had been left by the late Tony Stark. On one side the logo of the Avengers was clearly imprinted and on the other was his own black arachnid that graced his Spidey suit.


	4. explanations and expectations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think updates will generally be coming slower as I really need to focus on my work at the moment but I hope you still stay tuned for the rest of the chapters :) 
> 
> I thought this week I'd give y'all something happy because the more I plot out the rest of the fic the more I realise it might not be entirely happy... but anyway! enjoy some MJ and Peter banter for now :) 
> 
> as always, thank you for reading and commenting <3

Peter was an idiot. He was a fool… a complete buffoon. He’d put himself in this situation and now he was pretty sure there was absolutely no way that he could dig himself out.

He cursed his past self who had thought it might be a good idea to stop by his lab on the way home. After investing so much in keeping the clearance card safe it had been stupidly careless of him to leave the card floating around in his wallet for anyone to see, to take. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought that anything remotely along the lines of this would happen.  
  


Well. It was time to face the music.

MJ was quiet as Peter sat down next to her again, his eyes trained on the dark wood of the bench and the grooves and scratches that marred its varnished surface. The noise and bustle of the restaurant which had been so comforting and vitalising only minutes ago had turned chaotic and Peter found it hard to focus. He took a deep breath in.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw MJ pause her spinning and with the practiced precision of his superhuman genes he plucked the card from her hand, sending it disappearing into his pocket before she could so much as blink. It was as though his whole body relaxed once he got the clearance card in his hands once more and he hadn’t realised how tense he had been without it.

“Hey!” MJ complained frowning. “I think I deserve an explanation.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” Peter said shrugging and plastering a fake smile across his face.

“Don’t get like that Peter…” MJ said somewhat irritably. “You don’t have to shut everyone out just because you think this is one burden only _you_ can carry.”  
  


“Don’t know _what_ you’re talking about.” Peter insisted taking his wallet from where it had been discarded on the bench and slipping it into his jacket pocket. He fussed about with the coat wondering what the consequences would be if he were to make a dash for the door right now. He decided against it.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” MJ hissed looking meaningfully at him, “Spider-Man.”

“Shhhh—” Peter hissed back, casting a furtive glance around the rest of the restaurant. MJ set her lips into a firm line, eyebrows raised in expectation and arms crossed in fierce defiance. It was a look Peter knew all too well and there was no way she would back down until he explained himself.

Peter ran a hand over his face and sighed deeply. “Ok, I’ll explain everything, but can we take this conversation outside?”

“Sounds good to me.” MJ said indicating that he should take the lead. He did, trying not to sulk as he thanked the staff at the restaurant and shrugged his coat over his shoulders.

“I don’t suppose the ‘I’m actually Spider-Man’s assistant’ excuse would work right now?” Peter said hopefully as he held the door open for MJ and they both made it out into the chilly night air once more.

“Not a chance.” MJ said smiling triumphantly. “Look there’s a coffee shop over the road, so I say we get a warm drink and you can tell me all about your alter ego.”

Peter groaned and reluctantly followed after her. This night was definitely not going as he had planned.

Warm drinks achieved MJ led Peter to a small park with a cute pond and a playground (which was really just a grimy climbing frame and a set of monkey bars). Peter wrapped his hands tightly around his takeaway cup in the hopes of retaining some of the warmth, so his fingers didn’t go numb.

“I guess I’ll start from the beginning then?” Peter said hesitantly as MJ blew on the steam rising from her cup.

“Wait, let’s go sit there.” MJ said indicating the playground.

Peter looked at her sceptically to see if she was joking. It seemed she was not as she grabbed a hold of his wrist and dragged him up to the monkey bars.

Peter snorted as MJ handed him her drink and began hauling herself up through the bars and onto the top with the technique of someone who had clearly spent a lot of time playing on these things as a kid. Peter bent his knees slightly and jumped. He landed on the climbing frame just as MJ had managed to manoeuvre herself through the bars and onto the top. She looked up at him and gaped, amusement and awe mixed on her face despite the fact that the small jump had been barely more than a murmur of Peter’s actual strength. He wouldn’t say that though, that would just be boasting.

Peter sat down beside her and handed MJ back her drink as she muttered “show off”.

“Ok start from the beginning.” MJ said moving closer so that they were shoulder to shoulder.

“Well… a few years ago I got bitten by a radioactive spider.”

And so, Peter began to tell his tale right back from his early days as Spider-Man, a vigilante in a home-made suit crafted from sweatpants and a hoodie who swung around the city on webs he’d designed, taking care of petty crimes. He talked of how he had met Mr Stark when he was a sophomore, or rather, told MJ how Tony had showed up at his apartment out of the blue and asked him to join the Avengers on a secret mission in Germany.

“So, you went to Germany? Just like that? And all the times you said that you had the Stark internship you were actually--?” MJ said and Peter nodded affirmatively, and she grinned.

He’d gotten back home and for about a year he’d been the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man again. That was, until everything had turned upside down when Thanos had sent his minions to earth in search of Infinity Stones. Peter had gone to space, died, been brought back to life before being thrown straight back into the battle of his life. Peter felt the memories raging against the wall in his mind as he talked about the battle so he mostly skimmed over it as much as he could. MJ’s previous excitement had died, and her gaze had turned solemn as she let Peter recount the story in his own time. 

“That field trip we took Senior year to Stark Industries… the day of the memorial.” Peter began but trailed off, not entirely sure where to begin. What could he say about the disastrous field trip? Instead he focused his gaze on a street lamp at the edge of the park and watched the moths flitter around as they were drawn to the amber light.

“Ahh,” MJ sighed, “the ill-fated field trip. That was a _serious_ mess, it was also the time when I realised.”

“Realised what?”

“How afraid I was to lose you.” She said quietly. “I can still remember you hanging over that hole in the floor and yelling at me to leave. I thought you were going to die. And if you were gone…I mean who else was I going to sit with at lunch? Ned?” MJ said trying to make a joke out of what she had just said but Peter said nothing and waited quietly to see if she would continue. “It’s also when I realised that you were Spider-Man.”

“What?” Peter said looking at her incredulously.

“Oh come onnnn.” She said her smile returning to light her face once more, “you don’t honestly think this is the first time I’ve suspected you might be a certain web-spinning spider-kid?”

“Spider-Man,” Peter corrected her, “and um yes? I mean, I haven’t been careless enough to let anyone _else_ find out.”

“Does Ned know?”

“Yeah well that was an accident, he caught me crawling across the roof in my suit.”

“How about May?”

“Similar kinda thing actually…”

“So not really ‘anyone’ then.” MJ said smirking.

“Yeah well like no one at school.” Peter elaborated.

“That’s ‘cause no one notices you Peter.” MJ said pulling him closer. “Except me.”

Peter let that stew a second and felt his heart swelling even though he was pretty sure it was kind of an insult. “Wait, but what was the point of your little trick with my clearance card then?”

“Well I was just waiting for you to come out with it yourself but then you presented me with the _perfect_ opportunity by leaving our ID card next to the cash you wanted to pay for dinner with.” MJ said shrugging, her shoulder bumping into his.

“I can’t believe this.” Peter said still slightly dumbfounded. “I was so good at hiding it though?”  
  
“Yeah not quite.” MJ said wryly smiling at him.

“Oh yeah? What was it about the field trip that gave me away?” Peter challenged.

“Ok well firstly, sophomore year for the decathlon you were AWOL for like the whole thing and then Spider-Man shows up and saves everyone? Plus, I saw you making your web stuff in Chem once and I’m pretty sure I saw you jumping onto the roof at a party like ages ago.” MJ said waving a hand nonchalantly.

“You notice a lot.” Peter grumbled, perhaps he had been careless.  
  
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” MJ jabbed back before continuing. “But the biggest giveaway was the field trip. I mean what did you expect me to think? I leave you hanging fifty feet in the air, talking to your AI about a ‘suit’ and then suddenly Spider-Man shows up carrying Flash and your backpack? And Spider-Man knows Ned? And Peter Parker is on first name basis with the Avengers? Like come _on_ Peter.”

“Ok when you say it like that.” Peter grumbled, sipping at his hot chocolate.

“I think after that trip I knew for sure y’know? The more I thought about it the more it made sense.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know you Peter… and I saw what Spider-Man was doing, everything that he did for years and it just made sense. I could see you behind that mask and it all sort of fit.” MJ sighed, casting her eyes up to the night sky, with all the light pollution you couldn’t really see the stars, but she knew they were there. “And when I saw you at Tony Stark’s memorial, standing with all the other Avengers… that image really stuck with me, it just looked right? You looked like you were meant to stand there. Like you belonged.”

Peter followed her gaze up to the sky and smiled warmly. MJ knew exactly what to say. Maybe he should ask her to say that into a recording so Peter could replay it whenever he was feeling particularly disillusioned with being an Avenger, like how he sometimes listened to certain parts of that video Tony had left him.

They were quiet for a bit longer, Peter swung his legs back and forth as he waited for MJ to speak again. He was overcome with the sudden urge to laugh at the insane situation he was in right now. Here he was sitting on a climbing frame in a playground talking about the Avengers while sipping on hot chocolate. It was absurd.

“Why haven’t you revealed your identity though? Most of the other Avengers have.”

“I don’t know…” Peter mumbled. “Somehow that makes everything more real. Suddenly I’m not just a college student I become so many other things. It’s hard enough balancing all my responsibilities but having the public know about them too? Me revealing my identity would just fuel their obsession with me being Tony’s protégé. It would be too much.”

MJ nodded understandingly and finished off her drink. She raised her hand above her head and lobbed it at the green trash can sitting at the edge of the playground but missed abysmally.

“That was terrible.” Peter said pretending to sound appalled. “What kind of throw was that?” He teased.

“Like you could do better.” MJ complained jumping off the climbing frame and landing in a crouch.

Peter grinned at the challenge and MJ watched as he cocked his arm and ditched the empty coffee cup at the bin, sending the cup disappearing cleanly into the trash.

“I walked right into that one, didn’t I.” MJ said walking over to retrieve her cup and put it in the bin by hand this time.

“You kinda did.” Peter said grinning as they made to leave the park. MJ smiled despite herself and she leaned over to link arms with Peter.

“Thanks for telling me everything.” MJ said sincerely as they entered out into the light of the streetlamps and continued down the pavement. Peter was pretty sure they weren’t far from her house.

“Well you didn’t give me much choice.” Peter said teasingly.

“Yeah I can’t say I meant to force it out of you like that…”

“No it’s ok, sometimes I need a bit of a push,” Peter said and MJ made an enthusiastic noise of agreement that sounded far too much like ‘really? you don’t say?’, which had him frowning before continuing, “but for what it’s worth I have wanted to tell you for ages I just wasn’t sure about how to do it.” He paused, not sure how much to say. He didn’t want to add that people close to the Avengers tended to get into all sorts of trouble, he’d heard the stories of what happened to Pepper the closer she got to Tony. But Peter decided he didn’t want to freak MJ out, plus May and Ned had been fine so far. 

“Good,” MJ said, “and now you know that you can tell me anything, anything at all. My metaphorical door is always open.”

“Thanks.” Peter said grinning. “I really, really like you.”

“I really, really like you too.” MJ said pressing closer to Peter.

“Although, one of these days you really do have to show me your lab!” She insisted as they rounded the corner and arrived on her street. “I am totally imagining like a weird cave, like a spider cave.”

“Yes, yes I promise.” Peter said laughing, he’d made a similar promise to Ned, perhaps the three of them could visit the lab over Christmas.

“I’ll see you again this weekend, right?” MJ said hopefully as they arrived at her flat.

“For sure.” Peter said certainly as MJ pulled him into a tight hug. Everything about the hug was different to the one they had shared mere hours ago.

“Text me and stay safe.” She whispered and Peter’s heart was tinged with something close to sadness. Her words held weight, a weight that would always be there now. That phrase wasn’t a simple afterthought as he departed, it had become so much more. Maybe that was why Peter had held off on telling her for so long? Had he been trying to avoid the realness that came with revealing his identity? The danger that he faced on a regular basis was something he was so used to shouldering himself, always trying to limit how much May heard about his missions or how he described certain battles to Ned because he didn’t want the people close to him to worry. If they knew what Peter really went through…

Before MJ could withdraw completely and before Peter could lose his cool, he pressed his lips to her cheek lightly. After a second Peter stepped back and, forgetting he was standing on the steps that led to the door of the apartment block, completely lost his footing and slipped. He managed to grab onto the railing and right himself before he completely fell over.

MJ laughed and Peter felt relieved that the tension was broken. “Aren’t your reflexes supposed to be really good?”

“Yeah I mean kinda… it’s better when I’m y’know,” Peter motioned with his hands, “in the ‘zone’.”

“Sure…” MJ said drawing the word out as she smiled fondly. “Anyway, I’ll see you later ok?”

“Yeah.” Peter said walking backwards down the stairs, partly to prove that he did have good coordination and partly so that he could make sure MJ got into the complex safely. She punched the code in, and the door buzzed as it unlocked.

She turned around as she opened the door and went inside. “Go on.” She said gesturing for Peter to leave.

“You first.” Peter said pushing his hands into the depths of his coat to try and warm them up a bit.

MJ seemed to sigh in mock exasperation but grinned as she gave a little wave and shut the door behind her. Peter sighed contently and bounced on the balls of his feet before turning and striding off down the street.

Despite how it had all gone down it had been an excellent date. He was sure something had changed between him and MJ and he felt certain that it had changed for the _better._ Peter’s constant worrying of what might happen tomorrow or the day after that, or next week, was silenced as he tried to be present in those moments that he had shared with MJ. If only for a minute Peter felt happier and more _peaceful_ than he had in months. He breathed a sigh of relief before a grin spread across his face and he began to skip off down the street completely uncaring of how ridiculous he might look. Because he was _happy,_ and he’d be damned if he didn’t enjoy it.

MJ had made the unwise mistake of leaving her heater on while she had been out with Peter and as a result her bedroom was sweltering. To try and balance the temperature out a bit she had opened her bedroom window to let the night air in and to appreciate the sort-of-view that she had. She was lucky the flat was up so high otherwise she’d just be staring at the grey concrete apartment complex on the other side of the road.

MJ leant against the windowsill and wound her hands through her hair, pulling it back and braiding it loosely so that it would stay out of her face.

_Peter was Spider-Man._

She hadn’t been lying when she said she’d pretty much known all along but suspecting and having Peter actually admit to it all were two _very_ different things. It didn’t change things as such (at least she didn’t _think_ it did), but MJ had to think about things differently now. She had to take into consideration what Peter did, what he had really been through this year. It was like looking at everything with a new pair of glasses – except these lenses were the new Peter Parker aka Spider-Man line.

She chewed at her lip thoughtfully and stared out at the city lights. There were so many thoughts swirling around her head. She had gone easy on the questions because she hadn’t wanted to push Peter too hard and she had been kind of scared of what she would find if she did. She knew how different Peter had been after the Decimation, everyone was different no matter how easily they might convince people otherwise. As much as she loved Peter, she knew there wasn’t something quite right, there was a new look in his eyes, a new shadow. Perhaps that would all come out with time and for now MJ was mostly just glad that Peter could be open with her. Starting a relationship based on a secret as big as Peter’s would probably have destined them for disaster, even without the whole long-distance arrangement.

MJ considered this carefully and her fingers brushed against her cheek where Peter had kissed her. Things were going slow, but she didn’t mind it. It was difficult being long distance but at least she had Stark Industries to thank for getting Peter back every other weekend.

MJ started as she heard what she thought was the sound of someone saying ‘woohoo’. Honestly it could have been anything, it was starting to get late and sometimes there were shady things happening in this side of the neighbourhood. On closer inspection of the streets and the buildings around her she realised that there was a figure standing on top of the tallest building about a block from her. It was pretty far away and pretty dark so she couldn’t quite make out what was happening and for a second her heart seized as the figure launched themselves off the building… and then suddenly flew back up again.

She heard another boisterous yell and grinned as the swinging figure grew closer. He really couldn’t help himself, could he? They’d only parted ways an hour ago.

MJ stuck her head out the window as Spider-Man flew past her window so close that she felt she could reach out and touch him.

“You’re crazy, you know that, right?” She yelled, not really caring about what the neighbours thought.

“Crazy for you!” Peter yelled as he swung back the way he came and blew her a kiss as he swung out of sight.

“Literally, insane.” MJ said turning her back to the window and pressing her head back against her wall. She was giddy with excitement but was now faced with the big question of how on earth she was expected to sleep having just found out that her boyfriend, her best friend was _the_ Spider-Man.


	5. an eventful thanksgiving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well after the sweetness of the previous chapter I expect this'll be a little more grounding. Quite a few questions presented in this chapter but do not worry all will be revealed soon! 
> 
> (except the Scarlet Vision stuff - when I first included the concept of restoring Vision in Part 1, I wrote the story so that the timeline coincided with my 'Dear Vision' story so if you want to see their side of things from this fic then head over there) 
> 
> That's all for now, a new chapter is ready and up to go just let me know if you want it :) 
> 
> Thank you for all your wonderful comments as always xx

Peter had his legs tucked beneath him as he pressed his head against the tinted glass of the window. The wheels thundering down the highway made his head bump up and down and when the vibration grew too disrupting, he leant his head back against the leather headrest and sighed. He had definitely stayed out too late the night before to be up this early. Peter let his eyes fall shut against the sights flashing past the window and tried his very best to get some sleep.

After seeing MJ home the previous night, Peter had gone back to the lab and ensured that things were all running according to plan. His weekends back in New York were his only time to be able to check, in person, on how the prototypes were going for the various projects he had in motion. Luckily, nothing had blown up in his absence and everything was running smoothly. He’d spent a couple of hours tweaking various things before getting on to his next important task of the evening.

New York had not seen Spider-Man in two weeks and if Peter didn’t show his face, or mask, soon, then the press would probably start spinning tales of his death. He’d spent a few more hours out and about, clearing up some small skirmishes throughout the city before finally retiring back to the apartment around 2am.

Peter’s legs were beginning to cramp, and his neck was starting to twinge from the odd angle it was at. After a few minutes of trying to fall asleep (it didn’t help that Peter wasn’t all that good at sitting still) he opened his eyes and unfolded his legs, flopping against the back of the seat in defeat. He flicked his phone open and skipped the song he had been listening to. But it seemed like everything in his playlist was annoying him at the minute as he flicked past _Rhianna’s Umbrella_ and _Back in Black_ by _AC/DC,_ eventually giving up and yanking his headphones from his ears.

“Everything ok, Pete?” May asked, pausing the conversation she had been having with Happy in the front seat.

“Yeah fine, just tired that’s all.” Peter muttered, running a hand over his face and sighing.

May gave him a concerned look and he mustered a half-hearted smile.

“That’s more like it, it’s Thanksgiving and you get a break from work!” May said trying to be enthusiastic and giving Happy a look that indicated he should probably follow suit.

Peter watched Happy’s eyes flick to him in the rear-view mirror. “Yeah, your Aunt’s right, you’ll get to catch up with the rest of the team, Morgan will be there.” Happy said supportively and May gave him a smile and a squeeze on the shoulder.

Peter smiled weakly and turned his attention outside. He could tell they were getting close to the compound. A feeling was beginning to settle in Peter’s stomach, and he wasn’t sure he could quite place what it was… dread wasn’t quite right… maybe apprehension?

He loved the compound with all his heart, after all, he had been thoroughly involved in the design and security of the new buildings. After accepting his part time position at Stark Industries, Pepper had brought Peter onto the project for rebuilding the compound. Not only did this give Peter something to do, but it also taught him the process of getting approval and all the levels of order he more or less had to answer to. Back when he had been an intern, he’d just asked Tony if he could start a project, but he’d quickly learnt that there was now a new order to follow.

In the month he had been stuck in his spiralling depression, the rest of the team had cleared the carnage that remained of the compound and were left with a clean slate to start something new.

Bruce, Carol and Nick Fury were heading the task, designing the new compound to fit the new-ish team and making space for anyone who might join them in the future. Peter had spent the better part of the summer break covering the tech side of the new base, ensuring that there were features that would prevent it from falling prey to future attacks.

He’d been under the strict supervision of Nick Fury (who was incredibly specific about what sort of defences the compound needed – Peter had begun to think he was slightly paranoid), Pepper (who had generously provided majority of the funding for the new base, along with a variety of other philanthropists) and Carol Danvers (who had all the otherworldly knowledge that Peter needed to design the best security system possible). Bruce had been in charge of the actual design and had tried to stay as true to the first compound as he could. It had taken around a month of hard work to design everything and a lot of communication with Shuri in Wakanda, who had taught Peter about the shielding software she had designed, before everything was ready to go. Throughout the whole process Peter felt that in many ways he had grown a lot closer to the rest of the team but couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that he still didn’t quite stand on the same footing as them.

“Alrighty, here we go.” Happy said and Peter felt the car slowing as he was drawn out of his thoughts and into the present.

“Are we here?” Peter asked.

“Oh my gosh that’s the first time that you’ve asked during the whole trip, I figured that you’d be saying ‘are we there yet’ every half an hour like you did as a kid.” May cooed and Peter grumbled something about ‘I’m an adult now’ which made May wrinkle her nose as she laughed.

That was when the voices reached Peter’s ears and he instinctively shifted away from the windows, despite their impenetrable tint. The car slowed and Happy pressed his hand on the steering wheel, giving a short beep of the horn to try and get the people ahead to move out of the way.

Peter suddenly wished he had left his headphones in.

“This is absolutely insane.” May said as she peered out the window at the scores of press vans, cameras and reporters lining the fence of the Avengers Compound. Peter hoped they didn’t get too close to set the security systems off. The arrival of a new car to the scene caused great excitement and people ran, shoving each other aside to try and get a view of who was behind the tinted windows.

Peter ground his teeth in frustration as his eyes darted around at the scene playing on outside the window. It was so _unnerving_ to be in front of the camera, even if he knew there was no way they could see him. He could already imagine the headlines now if they figured out it was him in the car. No need to fuel the news’ insistence that he was the new Tony Stark, Peter’s position at Stark Industries was enough to do that on its own.

“I don’t see why Danvers felt the need to tell the public that the Avengers are spending Thanksgiving together.” Happy grumbled as he slowed the car to a near stop, edging it forward slowly. He couldn’t stop entirely otherwise the press would collect around the car and make it impossible to move, as they were currently trying to do. It was a difficult balance and Peter almost hoped that Happy ran over the toes of some of the reporters in the process.

Peter knew why Carol Danvers had felt the need to alert the press to their Thanksgiving plans, the Avengers _did_ need to present a united front. The rest of the world was slowly but surely putting itself back together, order had been restored more or less though there were still some countries in complete disarray. Peter suspected that the Department for Foreign Affairs and Defence Force had banded together to insist the Avengers make some press noise just so the rest of the world could see the arsenal that America had assembled should they think about taking advantage of the fragile international order. Admitting this didn’t make it any easier for Peter to handle the hordes of press awaiting them.

Thanksgiving with the Avengers… what a strange thought? It was kind that Carol had asked for May to be there as well. Peter and his aunt had never really been strictcelebrators of Thanksgiving, but he had to admit that the chance for a big lunch and to do some tinkering at the compound was pretty appealing.

After a few more beeps of his horn Happy finally made it to the front gate and they waited patiently as the gates were opened slowly as whoever was manning the security system in the compound recognised the black sedan. The car lurched forward as they entered the compound, leaving the clamouring press to wait behind. Now that the people were out of the way Happy increased his speed as they pulled up the drive to the compound.

With the press left in the dust behind them, Peter couldn’t help the pride that swelled in his chest at the sight of the complex before him. Over the last few months the compound had become his baby of sorts, after the weeks spent designing a system to protect it Peter had had to leave for university and hadn’t been able to see construction start. He’d monitored it sure, and had visited a few times when he was back in New York, but there was something different about seeing every piece where it was supposed to be as a whole. The compound had only been completed a month ago and Peter had luckily been around for the weekend as the finishing touches were put on.

May made noises of appreciation as they followed the sweeping lawns towards the main building and Peter craned his neck in-between the front seats to try and get a good look.

“Oh my gosh…” May said as she caught sight of the main building, the residential one that most of the Avengers stayed in. “Sweetie… you helped design this?”

“He sure did!” Happy said smiling widely.

“I think you missed your calling in architecture.” May said appreciatively and Peter could kind of understand what she meant, even if he didn’t deserve sole credit in any sense.

“I kinda did more of the stuff you can’t see, but there were a few things I had input on…” Peter said nonchalantly.

The first compound had been made for practicality, ease of use, everything was where it was so that it made it simple for the team to get around. Peter had taken a slightly new spin with it, after clearing his ideas with Pepper, he’d gone to MJ to get her opinion, after all she was the artist.

The new compound was still modern and for all intents and purposes, followed a similar design to the first build. After Wanda Maximoff and the rest of the Avengers had spent two weeks clearing the destruction that Thanos had left behind they had discovered that there were some parts of the original compound that could be recovered, the basement for one. As such, the new base had been built right on top of where its sister had stood. There was still the hanger in the North of the compound and the labs, conference rooms and medical bay in the West wing, but Peter and Pepper had tried to make the main building, the _residential_ part, more homely.

It was still modern, but Peter had added in a few things of his own. The first, which you couldn’t see from the outside, was that the residential building was hollowed out on the inside. Glass cascaded down the inside walls, surrounding a large square at the centre of the building that the kitchen and living space had opened up to. Amongst all the technology and modernity of it all, Peter had decided a garden might be a nice touch. Pepper had loved the idea and had taken control of the project, doing a wonderful job of selecting trees and shrubbery and creating a small stream which ran the span of the courtyard. It seemed she had taken to gardening during the five years after the Decimation. 

Peter had asked that they include as much glass (reinforced and bullet proof) as possible so that the compound could take advantage of the sun, given they were already going to be using so much energy to power it. Despite that, Peter was glad to say that the compound was 100% renewable, running on the green energy of the arc reactors in the basement.

And finally, there were the little touches that Peter had decided upon himself. There was symbolism throughout the compound, windows in the shapes of triangles, a roof top patio shaped as an arc reactor. Constant reminders of what it had cost to get them here.

The most prominent of which sat in the centre of the compound, a series of very rare, alien trees. One for Tony, one for Natasha, and the final one for Loki and every other person who had given their life to try and stop Thanos.

Happy pulled into the private car port and switched the car off, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Thanks honey.” May said leaning over and pecking him on the cheek. Peter pretended to crinkle his nose in disgust, but May just smiled at him, which made Peter smile. He was so glad she was happy… even if, oddly enough, it was with Happy of all people.

“Thanks, Hap.” Peter said getting out of the car and slinging his duffle bag over his shoulder, it clinked insistently which reminded Peter of all the work that he still had to do.

As though reading his thoughts May pointed a stern finger at him, “You are not going to get straight to work, you are going to come and talk with everyone first ok? I’m sure they all want to hear about how university is going.”

“I know…” Peter grumbled as they followed Happy to the glass doors which opened to let them in.

May had linked an arm with Happy and was whispering to him about something or other, Peter chose not to listen in – he could never be sure if it was something he actually wanted to hear… but it seemed like she was just as awestruck as Peter had been the first time he had come to the Avengers compound.

In the years since Tony had offered to induct Peter into the Avengers, he had only visited the compound a few times. Despite dedicating most of his Avengers time to Stark Industries before the Snap, Peter’s visits here had always been wonderful and, in some ways, felt like a dream from a very, very long time ago. Sometimes Peter wasn’t quite sure whether it was all real… if any of it had actually happened. Peter could feel his mind floating away and so he glanced around the room, grasping at anything that would ground him to the present and prevent the spiral he could feel himself being drawn into.

Peter could hear chattering from upstairs and so he pulled ahead of May and Happy, who were still whispering to each other, and took the stairs two at a time. Though he didn’t really need it, he grasped the silver railing with one hand and let the cold metal bring him back down to earth a little more.

As he had in the two times he’d been to the completed compound, Peter admired the interior design. It was simple and minimalistic but wasn’t without a few homely touches here and there. Large vintage prints of Steve Rogers from before he went into the ice adorned the walls leading up the staircase, inter woven with smaller frames which held newspaper clippings from the Avengers first mission together in New York. There were photos of the team together smiling, one of them all (besides Peter) in the living room of the first compound looking battered and bruised but still happy. Most of the photos had been taken before everything fell apart after the Sokovia accords and the fight in Germany. There were a few new editions Peter noted, a couple of ones of Tony but Peter let his eyes glaze as he passed them, refusing to look.

As Peter rounded the corner and reached the top of the stairs, he heard the voices becoming clearer and grinned when he heard the high pitch of Morgan’s chattering.

Peter dropped his bag against the wall at the front of the room and walked into the wide-open kitchen/living space. Of all the spaces, this one had stayed most like it’s original. All the permanent residents had agreed that this was the most important room in the house.

“Ayyy there he is.” Sam Wilson said jumping up from the couch and striding over to Peter to give him a hug.

Peter grinned and clapped Sam on the back in return. “Hey, how you going?”

“Good, good.” Sam said keeping a hand on Peter’s shoulder and guiding him into the kitchen, “very glad that we have a permanent base now, you’ve done a pretty great job.” Peter grinned, the two had definitely had a rocky start in Germany, but Sam had always been easy to talk to and get along with. Even if he did tease Peter incessantly, he never treated him like a child.

“Ah nah it wasn’t just me.” Peter said bashfully but smiling anyway. He turned to the rest of the room and as usual, the scope of heroes felt a bit like a kick to the stomach. Honestly, how long was it going to take him to get used to seeing them all here? His teammates… the word seemed strange to describe the odd collection of people before him.

“Peter!” Morgan cried, launching herself from the couch where she had been sat beside Pepper and running up the steps to throw herself into his arms.

Peter smiled and hugged her, letting her take his hand and lead him down to the living area where she began to show Peter a small robotic dog which barked and moved its little legs. As all young children usually do, Morgan had latched onto the idea of getting a dog and it seemed that Pepper had placated her demands with a robot for the time being. Peter wondered how long that would last. Pepper seemed to give him a knowing smile and a slight eye roll as Morgan doted on the robot.

As Morgan played with her toy Peter grinned at Wanda and Vision who were tucked up on the couch, he was glad to see that they were well. Even seeing them was, well, a miracle. From what Peter had heard from Bruce, who was currently busy in the kitchen with Rhodey, Vision had only been fully restored two weeks earlier. Peter couldn’t quite comprehend how they had done it and felt it a bit intrusive to ask. He was pretty sure that Wanda could feel the curiosity emanating from him, at least that’s what her wry smile seemed to tell him.

May and Happy finally reached the top of the stairs and Peter jumped up to go to his aunt’s rescue as the rest of the team emerged from different wings of the house, coalescing into the living room.

Rhodey emerged from the kitchen, removing oven gloves as he did and strode over to Peter to see him.

“Everything good?” Rhodey asked, his tone so serious that it made Peter’s brain scramble as he wondered whether something _really was_ wrong.

“Yes.” Peter said smiling and clasping Jim Rhodes hand in return as the Colonel smiled and clapped Peter on the back.

Carol, Nick and a dark, long haired woman that Peter didn’t recognise had come from one of the other rooms in the house and were deep in discussion. They trailed off as they reached the rest of the group after getting a stern look from Rhodey who seemed to be taking this Thanksgiving business very seriously.

“No work talk in the kitchen, we’re on holiday today.” He said jabbing a wooden spoon at them.

“Peter, it’s good to see you again.” Carol said warmly, smiling at Peter who grinned in return.

“You’re still in one piece? College must be going easy on you…” Nick Fury said sizing Peter up, “we’ve got a lot to talk about.”

“Fury, seriously, Rhodey is right. It’s thanksgiving, can we please give the kid a break?” Carol said, frowning at him.

Peter had never really seen someone talk back to Fury like Carol did, but every time she did it reminded him of the insane power of the tesseract, aka the Space Stone, which coursed through her veins.

“We’ll be talking _later_.” Fury said glancing sideways at Carol in a way that made Peter’s stomach fill with lead. Already this visit was taking a not so great turn.

“By the way, this is Monica Rambeau.” Carol said indicating the woman standing next to her. “An old friend… more like family I suppose.”

“Spider-Man I assume.” Monica said extending her hand which Peter shook. She had a firm grip and if Peter had to guess he would say she had some form of military training based on the black trousers, combat boots and button-down ensemble she was wearing.

“Yep.” Peter said trying to smile but being called Spider-Man threw him off a little bit. Even though everyone in the room knew his true identity it was still strange to be so out in the open about it. If he was being honest it made him want to suit up immediately, even if just to hide behind his mask. Instead, he retreated a little to stand closer to his aunt who was just looking around the room with raised eyebrows.

She had met most of the Avengers before, whether it was through Pepper, Stark Industries or at Peter’s graduation (long story short, some of his teammates had crashed the ceremony which had significantly distracted the audience from the main event, while giving Peter a last minute popularity boost he hadn’t asked for – but he was nevertheless grateful they had deigned to show up at all). Peter had no doubt that seeing everyone in the same room, the energy of so much raw power, would be overwhelming. Heck, if Peter was overwhelmed then surely May would be too, right?

Instead, she looked extraordinarily relaxed. May’s eyes had followed him throughout his various interactions so far and something between sadness and pride could be seen in them. Peter frowned and decided not to comment on it. Peter edged a little closer to her though as he prepared for the next round of introductions and catching up.

May seemed to have other ideas as, having spotted Pepper and Morgan on the couch, left Happy to explore the kitchen and Peter to fend for himself.

“Parker,” Bucky called from where he was sat at one of the stools by the kitchen island, raised a hand in greeting.

“Hi Mr Bucky, sir.” Peter said waving back with a smile.

“Mr Bucky!” Sam said breaking into cackling laughter and hitting James Barnes roughly on the back which made Bucky shove Sam in defiance. If Sam hadn’t seen the shove coming, he probably would have been thrown onto the couch, but managed to duck it at the last second as he continued to laugh.

“I seriously hope that everyone is hungry, because we have _a lot_ of food.” Rhodey said from the kitchen.

“Wait you made the food?” Peter said in slight disbelief.

“Oh, do you not think I can cook?” Rhodey said indignantly, a wooden spoon in his hand.

“No, no that’s not what I meant.” Peter said throwing his hands up in defence but smiling mischievously, nonetheless.

“That’s totally what he meant.” Bruce said from the other side of the kitchen where had just pulled two enormous turkeys from the oven.

“Hey!” Peter said as Bruce spared no sympathy in throwing him under the bus.

“Oh, he does it all the time, you should have heard the way he was badmouthing my lasagne.” Happy said, pulling said lasagne out of his freezer bag to heat up.

“I was not!” Peter said indignantly, thinking back to their conversation on his eating habits yesterday.

“Ok so Peter is getting _none_ of the lamb.” Rhodey said as he gestured for Sam to start taking plates to the table.

“There’s no winning with you guys.” Peter said throwing his hands up in mock frustration but proceeding to help set the table anyway. 

Peter’s leg was bouncing restlessly underneath the table as the dessert was being served. He wasn’t sure why he was so antsy and nervous, perhaps it was the fact that the only other times he had seen the whole team together like this was usually when they were about to die, save a few special occasions like birthdays. May knocked her knee against his and Peter stopped immediately. Perhaps it was because he was expecting someone to blow up at the table.

Sure, they were a team, but everyone had their own personalities and being on the battlefield was very different to sitting down at a lunch as though they were what… a group of friends, a family?

Perhaps it was how empty the table felt without Tony and Natasha. They both had such big personalities that it was almost quiet without them around. It was as though the conversation tried to compensate for the humour that was usually there, that _would_ have been there.

_If they were still alive._

Peter swallowed the bitter thought and took a spoonful of strawberries from a dish that was being passed around as Bruce made a terrible pun. Some people laughed but more than not, everyone was engaged in their own conversations. Stephen Strange was deep in discussion with Wanda and the newly resurrected Vision. Carol was in heated debate with Fury and Rhodey while Monica and Bruce appeared to be chatting casually at the other end of the table. Happy and May were talking with Pepper as she struggled to encourage Morgan to eat the food before her.

“Vis and I are going on holiday at the beginning of next month.” Wanda said causing the conversation to die immediately.

“What?” Carol said in surprise, looking as though she couldn’t be sure if she had indeed heard correctly.

“Well…” Wanda began looking to Vision beside her and he smiled a tight-lipped smile back, “things have been a little bit crazy these last few months—”

“Things have been a little bit crazy for everyone.” Monica Rambeau muttered, loudly enough for the whole table to hear and Carol shot her a look that told her to keep her mouth shut. Peter leant back in his chair trying to stay as far out of this conversation as possible.

“We just want some time for ourselves.” Wanda said ignoring Monica’s comment, desperation lacing her voice enough that Peter wondered if there was more to it than she was letting on.

“I didn’t realise the Avengers could take leave whenever they wanted.” Pepper quipped, her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to encourage a stubborn Morgan to take a bite of her lamb and peas.

“That’s why I’m asking now.” Wanda said smiling somewhat painfully. It seemed this wasn’t the reaction she had hoped for.

“We won’t be gone long, 10 days at most.” Vision said, one of the first things that Peter had heard him say so far. Something about him seemed… different. Like he wasn’t quite all there. No one, it seemed, was eager to explain _how_ he was there.

“You can’t just leave; we have things that need to be done here.” Carol said from the other end of the table.

“We really need to. This year… it’s been difficult and we… we need some time for ourselves.” Wanda replied firmly, looking at Vision for help but he was looking down at the plate before him.

“It’s been difficult on everyone.” Bruce said, setting his fork down and looking at Wanda with something like disappointment in his eyes.

“It’s just…” She looked at Vision who gave the slightest shake of his head and she trailed off.

“We’ll cover for you while you’re gone but you need to be back within the 10 days, and next time just ask with a little more time, so we know what’s happening. Both your skills are very much valued here, and we don’t want to be short-handed.” Carol explained, her gaze darting around the table as she spoke as though trying to anticipate if anyone would go against what she had said. It seemed no one was keen to challenge her word.

Sam was scowling but said nothing as he speared a strawberry and put it in his mouth. Wanda looked at him before lowering her gaze to her plate.

It seemed that the mood had turned sour as everyone tried to return to their previous conversations.

“Peter, I hear that you’re getting a new AI for the compound in today?” Carol changed the topic and Peter nodded eagerly.

“Yeah, I mean it’s something Mr Stark developed but I finished the programme and I’ll install her today and maybe do a test run to see how things go.” Peter explained. “She should be able to take care of everything here which leaves Friday to manage Stark Industries.”

“Great,” Carol said before continuing, “if you have the chance could you also check out some of the circuits in the upstairs rooms, the doors have been locking people out even when the house isn’t locked.”

“Yeah I can.” Peter said smiling and taking a bite of a strawberry.

“Not to add to the list, but I’ve been having a few issues with the new suit, I don’t suppose you could tweak a few things, could you?” Sam asked sheepishly and Peter dreaded to think what he meant by ‘issues’.

It was already almost three o’clock said Peter’s watch, but he nodded anyway, he’d make time for it and still be back in New York to go to SI and get some things done. He tried not to think about College. “Yeah I can sort that out too.”

“Any big plans that you’re working on at the moment Peter?” Bruce asked curiously.

“u-uhm…” Peter stuttered, faltering as he thought about Project Chronos. Not quite Thanksgiving lunch material he decided, and he definitely should not mention it to Bruce. “Sort of, just some basic things for Stark Industries and a few things I’m working on for the team.”

“Cool,” Bruce said nodding through a mouthful of food, “and what about the Expo next month, are you presenting anything?”

“The expo?” Peter said swallowing another strawberry quickly, which strained painfully down his throat.

“The Stark Expo…” Bruce said looking between Peter and Pepper.

“The Stark Expo is at the end of December, Peter.” Pepper said, putting down Morgan’s fork.

“Oh right.” Peter said feeling as though his heart had actually stopped for a moment.

_Crap… crap, crap, crap. It was fine right? He still had a whole month._

“Did you forget?” Pepper asked concerned.

“No… no of course not.” Peter lied.

“I asked you to present something on the night.” Pepper said sighing tiredly, and Peter tried not to squirm in his seat. How had he forgotten about the Stark Expo?

It was the first time the Expo would have been held in five years, considering the last time they’d had one had been before the Snap. Pepper had approached him a month ago asking if Peter might be up to showing some of the technology he had been developing and he’d been over the moon with excitement. Somewhere along the way though, it had fallen into the backseat of his mind as he was consumed by College, work for the Compound and the Avengers, and Project Chronos.

“I’ll have something ready.”

“So, you’ll be able to send me a brief then? Everything needs to be cleared by the event organisers by Wednesday.” Pepper prompted.

“Yes.” Peter choked out as he ate another strawberry, a million thoughts coursing through his head. He had no brief prepared and hadn’t even thought about what he might present – or the fact that he was going to have to present, in front of a big crowd, at the biggest Stark event of the year. Wednesday was soon, and he had an assignment due next week, plus studying for finals… he would have to find some time to fit it in elsewhere.

“Surely you’ll do something with the new suit tech you developed for me?” Sam asked Peter from where he was sitting by Carol.

“Yeah maybe…” Peter said casting a forlorn look to the table and fidgeting with his fork He couldn’t bear the thought that he had disappointed Pepper after she had put her trust in him. May put a hand over his and squeezed it.

“That was crazy tech, looked like something straight outta’ Tony’s mind.” Sam said his voice tinged with admiration, but the comment was like a shard of glass to Peter’s heart. His breath hitched and he fought to swallow, fist closing on the handle of his utensil.

“I have no doubt that Mr Stark Junior will be able to think something up, Tony was always good at doing things at the last second.” Nick Fury said nonchalantly, throwing the comment out where it landed like a final, thudding blow to Peter’s chest.

Peter dropped his fork, trying not to let it clatter on the table and stood up. His chair screeched back, and Peter kept his eyes trained on the marble floor and the black lines that webbed across it.

“Honey?” May said grabbing the sleeve of his navy sweater as he turned from the table.

“Just getting some air, I’ll be back in a second.” Peter managed to get out, casting his aunt a smile so that she wouldn’t feel the need to follow him.

Every instinct was telling Peter to run from the room as everyone remained quiet and he felt the gazes of their eyes trained on his retreating form. Peter ducked around the corner and followed the first-floor corridor, running a hand over the glass to try and ground himself. He knew the hallways were designed to be this open and he’d purposefully asked for all the glass to let the light in, but somehow it all still managed to feel cramped.

Finally, Peter reached the door to the outside courtyard and Pepper’s meticulously curated garden. As soon as he was out the door, he breathed a deep sigh of relief, his breath shuddering as he did. Walking slowly, Peter made his way over to a bench that was in the middle of the garden. He knew that from here everyone in the kitchen wouldn’t be able to see him and that he could get a little bit of peace out amongst the flowers and the trees.

It was the first time that Peter had gotten to actually enjoy the beauty of the small garden and he marvelled at the calming atmosphere as he felt the tension slowly begin to leach out of him. Peter followed the mossy stone path to a little clearing with a rickety bench that was perched on a path of grass before the little stream that gurgled along happily. He sat and tilted his head back against the sunlight peering down through the compound, a welcome warmth to combat the November chill.

This wasn’t supposed to be happening anymore. He was supposed to be well, to be fixed. He hadn’t had a panic attack in months and yet here he was, the mere mention of Tony setting him off. He figured the rest of the team would be a _little_ more considerate, especially considering Morgan and Pepper were there. Peter had half expected someone to make a speech at the beginning of lunch but instead there had just been awkward silence once they had all sat down, no one ready to make the first move or willing, it seemed, to discuss what they were _really_ thankful for this holiday. It was quiet until Carol had started cutting up one of the turkeys, using her powers to make the skin a little crispier, much to Rhodey’s outrage. Perhaps they had all moved on and Peter was the only one left in the past.

Peter had only just managed to stave the panic off as he sat there, focusing on the sharp jut of the wooden bench in the back of his knees and the way the sun felt against his head and the sound of the bubbling stream, which still managed to flow so eagerly despite it only running the length of the small garden.

How on earth had he forgotten the Stark Expo? The thought was eating relentlessly at his mind and he tried not to freak out. It had been in his calendar for weeks, weeks he should have spent preparing. The Stark Expo wasn’t just a showcase of all the new projects that Stark Industries had coming out in the new year, it was the celebration of technology and ingenuity of the employees – and more importantly, this year it would be a sign of hope for the coming year, a new leaf. The fact that Peter had even been invited to present something was incredible and he was determined not to let Pepper down.

But somehow, he couldn’t help feeling like he already had.


	6. ice creams and AIs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. It's been a bit. This chapter has been literally waiting to be posted but things have been crazy in my personal life and I just haven't felt the motivation to get back to this.
> 
> I'll do my best to update weekly/fortnightly until it's completed :)   
> Before this chapter I took on three wonderful Beta readers, without them this chapter would have been a whole lot worse. Thank you Willie, Kelsey and Saturn - you're all amazing and your feedback is so appreciated. Thank you for taking the time to actually look at my work and give advice - y'all are so wonderful <3

Peter didn’t want to go back inside. He didn’t even want to be at the compound anymore.

It was becoming more and more clear how the team saw him. He wasn’t a part of it at all – heck, he hadn’t even been an Avenger until a few months ago after his hurried initiation pre-battle. Not to mention, the fact that he was still in _college_ while the others had years of experience and training under their belts.

It was evident that they simply saw him as something Tony had left behind, yet another creation to help in their battle against evil. It just so happened, that Peter was quite adept at the tech side of things, which was in hot demand now that Tony wasn’t around.

In some ways, Peter felt like he had become just another piece of AI that Tony had gifted the Avengers. How was he any better than the tech that he was intending to upload later that afternoon?

Peter’s eyes were closed, and he started when he heard the hiss of the glass door opening down the path – indicating that someone was about to join him in the garden. Peter was expecting May, dreading Pepper and hopeful that it might be Happy, but he sat a little straighter when he saw that it was Carol Danvers.

Peter said nothing as he watched Carol walk over to him. It was strange seeing her like this. Peter wasn’t sure he had seen her in casual clothes before – the sleek black pants and the smart woollen sweater she wore seemed almost alien right now. Which was ironic, Peter supposed, considering Carol technically _was_ a little bit alien.

“May I sit?” Carol asked once she reached Peter.

He said nothing, but shifted to the other end of the bench to allow some space for her. Carol sat slowly, her eyes on the stream and the surrounding garden.

“I’ve been reading the news,” Carol said quietly, turning slightly to face Peter more. He kept his eyes on the bark of a tree about two meters from them, watching a colony of ants crawl up it. His mind flit briefly to Scott, thinking of how he was spending his Thanksgiving with his family. “A lot of things are being said about you.”

“I know.” Peter replied. He leaned down to pick up a handful of pebbles from the gravel path and began turning them over in his hands. He started to flick them into the stream, savouring the satisfying plop as they broke the water’s surface tension.

“The press is under the impression that you’re the next Tony Stark. There are even rumours that you’re going to take over Stark Industries.”

“Those are lies,” Peter spat, scowling as he threw another pebble into the stream. He was surprised at the venom with which he said it.

“I know.” Carol said softly – assuringly. “Everyone else in there knows, too. They don’t mean to be insensitive.”

“I know.” Peter conceded. “I’m not angry at them for wanting me to do my job.” He truly wasn’t.

“Then why _are_ you angry?”

“I’m not,” Peter insisted stubbornly. It was a lie.

_When they look at me, they don’t see_ me _. They see_ him.

_Everywhere I go, everything I see, is all him. So why isn't he here anymore?_

“Peter—” Carol was cut off by the sound of the door opening once more.

Morgan’s head peeked out the door and her face broke into an impish grin when she caught sight of Peter. Morgan’s eyes shifted to Carol and Peter got the weird feeling that she was reading the situation, as though she understood that perhaps their conversation was too serious to interrupt. She was incredibly socially aware for someone so young. To ease her mind, Peter flashed her a small smile – it was all he could really manage in the moment.

“Petey,” Morgan called, skipping down the path and up to the two of them, “Mommy said to come save you.”

“From what?” Peter asked, smiling as Morgan perched herself between himself and Carol.

Morgan glanced mischievously at Carol and then smiled at Peter, as though they were sharing a secret. Carol laughed warmly.

“What have you got there?” she asked, giving Morgan a look that made the young girl clap a hand over her mouth – as though she were afraid the secret was going to spill out if she didn’t.

“Nothing,” Morgan said, clearly hiding something behind her back with one hand.

“Hmm…I think you’re fibbing.” Carol said looking at Morgan with a quizzical brow. Morgan just shut her mouth firmly and tilted her head as if to say _‘really?’._ If Peter had to guess, he’d say she had acquired that particular mannerism from her mother. 

“Then what’s this?” Peter said, managing to pull the crinkly ice cream from Morgan’s tiny hand.

“Heyyyy!” She complained, looking up at Peter. “That’s for me!”

“Oh really.” Peter mocked, opening it for her.

“Thank you.” Morgan said politely, taking the red ice cream from him. It was one of those ones for two people, with two sticks that you could split down the middle. She pulled it apart with a little difficultly and offered one half to Peter. He wasn’t really in the mood for ice cream, but he took it anyway with an over the top gasp of welcome surprise.

“No ice cream for me?” Carol asked sorrowfully.

“Sorry.” Morgan said shyly, swinging her legs contently beneath her.

Carol gave an exaggerated sigh.

“Here, you can have some.” Morgan said and promptly thrust the ice cream in Carol’s face.

Carol spluttered as the ice cream bumped off her nose, leaving her with a red smear across her cheek. Morgan clapped a hand over her mouth as she laughed. Peter couldn’t help feeling a little astounded at the fact that the almost six-year-old had just smeared ice cream over the face of the most powerful being on earth.

“Sorry…” she said in-between her laughter.

“Oh, I am so going to get you back for that, little missy,” Carol said smiling and going in to take a bite from Morgan’s ice cream – she did it slow enough that the little girl could see what was happening and had time to launch herself from the bench to scurry off into the garden.

“You can’t have my ice cream!” Morgan called back.

“Oh, we’ll see about that!” Carol cried. She jumped up from the bench and followed Morgan around the garden in a game of tag.

Peter grinned at the interaction and briefly wondered when Carol had gotten so good at interacting with children.

Once he had finished his ice cream Peter stood up and stretched, reaching his hands above his head and sighing. Distraction was wonderful, if he could just stay distracted for long enough then he could _really_ convince himself that everything was entirely, completely and utterly fine.

The sun was beginning to set, casting Peter’s bedroom in a soft amber glow.

He swivelled the comfortable desk chair back and forth as he typed commands into the Compound’s security system, updating software and preparing it for the arrival of its new artificial intelligence programme.

His eyes were flicking between the two desktop computer screens sat before him and his fingers flew across the keys as quickly as he could without making a mistake – Ned was much better at touch typing than Peter was.

Peter paused momentarily to snag a Dorito from the bowl sitting beside him, and he brushed his cheesy fingers off on his jeans before continuing with the code. He was in his element; this was where Peter liked to be.

“Alright, Karen,” Peter said. “Is everything ready to go?”

“Everything appears stable,” Karen replied from his phone – which was sat propped against one of the screens. Peter had considered just adding her to the compound system for as long as he needed, but given that they were uploading new intelligence, he didn’t want to risk anything going wrong.

“Awesome,” Peter said swivelling in his chair as he backed away from his desk and turning to another table across from it, on top of which sat his duffle bag. Peter rifled around in it until he finally found what he was looking for.

“Here we go," Peter said holding up the blue data base drive, "Genevieve, welcome to the Avengers Compound.”

It was the motion of holding the drive before his eyes that made him catch sight of the room before him and actually _truly_ see it. He saw the light and the beauty of the sun’s rays from the view out the wall of windows to his right. How had he not noticed the sun setting? The windows should have made it almost impossible not to notice the burning light cast as dusk descended. After all, they were one of Peter’s favourite features of his room at the Compound and, perhaps, the only thing he actually liked about the room regardless of its comfortable bed and impressive lab space.

Back when Bruce had been getting everyone to choose their rooms, Peter had been indifferent. He wasn’t a permanent resident at the compound and, while he liked the rooms with the large windows and open space, it wasn’t really a big concern. At the time, he had been far more preoccupied with trying to develop the team’s security system to a standard that could be approved by the critical eye of Nick Fury.

In the end – though there had been a few arguments and a couple of vicious rounds of rock, paper, scissors – everything had worked out well. Sam, Bucky, Bruce and Rhodey were all on the ground floor while Wanda, Vision and Carol had taken rooms on the fourth floor. There were several other bedrooms on the top and middle floors for the rest of the team if they needed a place to stay, but people like Scott and Clint preferred to stay permanently with their respective families unless they were on duty. Nick Fury had insisted on having a _separate_ building altogether, and he had taken up residence in a small annex near the hangar. He claimed that he could barely stand being in the same room with any of them for more than 10 minutes, and that living with them would probably result in someone’s untimely death.

Peter had been left with the last room, which he had been shown to the first time he had stayed at the new compound the week after it had been completed. The rest of the team were out on missions and it was Bruce who directed Peter to his new quarters. The room that Peter was currently standing in was, geographically, in the exact same spot that Tony had stayed in at the compound when he worked and lived there. In fact, the set up was almost identical from what Peter remembered of the old compound. Big lab space, double bed, large desk. One of the first things Peter had done was push the bed to the window so that he could see the sky outside at night after the sun had gone down.

Firstly, before accepting the room, Peter had called Pepper and explained to her that there must have been some sort of mix up. He _couldn’t_ have Tony’s old quarters. If anyone should have it, Pepper should. But she had insisted that she had no use for the room, and given it was a decent sized room with a generous lab space it made perfect sense for Peter to be the one to take it.

Apparently, no one else in the team had been willing to take over a space which had once been Tony’s.

_‘We figured you’d be more at home here than any of us’,_ Bruce had said as he showed Peter around.

Peter had no idea what exactly about the last six months had given _anyone_ that idea, but he had shut his mouth, clenched his jaw and stuck it out. It was just a room – four walls and a roof. All Peter needed to do was just keep his eyes down and work or shut them as he went to sleep, and the memories would _stay away._

“Peter?” Karen prompted from his phone back on the desk. Peter realised he had completely zoned out.

“Yep, sorry,” Peter apologised, tapping the memory drive against his palm and heading back over to the desk to sit down. 

“Here we go,” he said sliding the drive into its place, smiling as the screen in front of him shifted to show a loading bar.

“Approximately two minutes remaining,” Karen informed him.

“I can’t believe things still need the time to load,” Peter said in exasperation, launching himself to his feet once more to pace about the room. “Karen, can you play _Plans_ by Birds of Tokyo?”

“Of course.”

The chorus melody for the song had been stuck in his head all day and he figured the only way to get it out of the loop running ‘round his brain was to listen to the song out loud.

Peter tapped his foot as it began, not surprised when sound burst from the Bluetooth speakers embedded in the ceiling above his head. The compound was practical, but that wasn't to say it didn’t maintain a certain level of luxury that Tony would’ve been proud of. Peter mimed the beat of the drum as he paced back and forth before the window, looking out to the sky outside. Above the compound, it had faded to a darker blue as the sun crested the horizon and sent the world into twilight. Peter tried not to remember the last time he’d watched the sun set from the compound before the Snap, but the memory was eating at the back of his mind, at the wall he propped up between him now, and everything that had happened before.

He could feel he memory tugging at those bricks, sending them down one by one until the whole structure trembled in his mind.

Instead, he concentrated on the music playing over the speakers, trying to focus on picking apart the layers of song – listening to the lyrics, then the guitar, then the electronic synths in the background. Perhaps it wasn’t the most musically advanced song (though he wasn’t exactly an expert), but it was enough to ground him in the moment and ward his memories off.

“Ten seconds,” Karen updated, and Peter strode back over to the desk as the green loading bar reached completion.

“Ok,” Peter said, cracking his fingers in anticipation and watching as Genevieve’s programme was brought up on the screen.

“Everything is looking good; she’s assimilating smoothly into the system,” Peter said, nodding. He scrolled through the data as the AI absorbed all the information and adapted her systems to spread throughout the compound. “Hello, Genevieve?”

Peter waited a few beats for the new AI’s answer. “Hello. I am Gen,” the distinctly female, _English,_ voice paused. “May I ask why I have been uploaded to… The Avengers Compound.”

“Hello Gen, this is Peter Parker.” Peter said into the receiver of his computer as he watched the data shifting while Genevieve’s artificial brain processed the new information.

“Peter Parker, Spider-Man, currently enrolled at MIT. Tony Stark told me of you,” Gen said and Peter frowned. It was natural for her to be able to access his data via the ethernet, but adding that he was Spider-Man and ‘Tony had talked of him?’ – perhaps not entirely impossible, but he could barely understand the full extent of her capabilities himself.

“What do you mean Tony told you about me?” Peter asked.

“Mr Stark informed me of a lot before he passed,” Genevieve said. “I am built on the models of FRIDAY and JARVIS. I can do everything they could, but Mr Stark said my closest model resemblance was to the artificial intelligence in charge of Spider-Man’s wellbeing and safety.”

“Karen?” Peter said growing slightly nervous. Perhaps it would have been a good idea to see how Genevieve interacted on a smaller scale before giving her access to the Compound. His eyes flicked to the blue data disc, aware that pulling it out would shut everything down if he needed to.

“I am more than just a bot, Peter,” she said calmly. “Karen and I are far more in tune to human nature than you might think.”

“She is right,” Karen said. “She is far more advanced than we imagined.”

“My sole purpose is to aid the Avengers,” Gen said, pulling up strings and strings of code which Peter struggled to comprehend but recognised as the base work for the computers mind. “I have access to the memories of Tony Stark and can make informed decision based off of those, but I answer only to the Avengers and Peter Parker.” 

“Wow,” Peter breathed, leaning back in his seat.

“Your surprise flatters me but if you would excuse me, I will go and introduce myself to the rest of the residents,” Gen said and fell silent.

“Well…” Peter said blinking rapidly. “That was really strange.”

“She is beyond what we anticipated,” Karen said quietly, and Peter sensed that his companion was concerned.

“Is there anything else that we know about her? Anything we should be concerned about?” Peter asked. All that he had found about Genevieve was a perfected programme for a new bot called Gen (which Peter had elongated into the full name). According to the notes Tony had left in her file, she was ‘everything the Avenger’s will need’.

“Nothing that she hasn’t already told us,” Karen replied automatically sifting through the information in Genevieve’s file from the Stark drive that Tony had left Peter, “She is equipped not only to handle all the security and organisational needs of the Compound but it seems she is also quite advanced in managing the team members safety… mentally.” Karen said the last word after a beat.

“Crazy…” Peter muttered. “But it seems like everything is settling in well, and if she can do that good of a job at keeping everyone under control then it will probably take some of the weight off Carol and Fury.”

“That is true,” Karen said somewhat absentmindedly, and Peter figured that she was still analysing Gen’s code.

“Peter?” A voice came from the hallway outside the bedroom and Peter’s eyes darted up.

“In here,” he called back and began shutting down the programmes that were open on the computer. His tablet was connected to the same network as the compound so if anything did go wrong, he would hopefully be able to fix things remotely.

“How’s everything going? I just had a kind of weird conversation with the new AI. She calls herself Gen?” Bruce Banner said as he ambled casually in through the door and over to where Peter was sitting.

“Yeah she’s a little different – a lot more advanced in terms of EQ than you’d usually see, so it will be interesting to see how this goes.” Peter said, switching the display screens off and zipping up his duffle bag. “But you know where the kill switch is for the power so if anything goes wrong…” he trailed off and mimed pressing a button.

“Yeah, I’d like to hope that this isn’t going to be like Ultron, and I trust Tony’s work but something about her seems so different from Friday…”

“She’s actually kind of like Karen,” Peter said, shouldering the duffle bag.

“Huh...” Bruce murmured, scratching his right arm absentmindedly, as though twinges of the pain inflicted all those months ago still remained despite the surface having mostly healed.

“Anything that I can do before I go?” Peter asked, trying to keep the apprehension from his voice. He really wanted to just leave now. He’d done what he had meant to by showing his face at the lunch, uploading the new AI, and fixing up the malfunctions to the doors and Sam’s new suit. To be honest, he was just ready for a good night’s sleep.

“Actually, there was something that I wanted to talk to you about. You remember the conversation we had a few weeks ago at Stark Industries?” Bruce asked, standing a little straighter. It was a bit of an unnecessary shift, Peter thought, considering Bruce already towered over him.

“Which one…” Peter wondered, wracking his brains. He’d talked a lot with Bruce while they were working on the new compound and after as the security systems were put in place. Peter began walking slowly to the door and Bruce followed.

“It’s about the conversation we had about Pym particles,” Bruce reminded, his voice lowering.

Every bone in Peter’s body seized up, but he made his best attempt to make his pause natural as he stopped before the door to the room and took a quiet, but shaky breath.

“What about it?” Peter asked. “I was pretty certain that that conversation was firmly finished.” 

“I just wanted to check in. Happy’s told me that you’ve been ordering some pretty top-class parts recently.”

Peter groaned internally and cursed himself for purchasing things through Stark Industries. He’d prayed that Happy would just turn a blind eye to the sheer _cost_ of the pieces that Peter was ordering, but it seemed he was far too smart for that. Honestly, what had Peter expected from the head of Stark Industry's security?

“It’s just stuff for the Stark Expo project and other small things that I’m doing for SI,” Peter said, forcing the lie out.

“Ok, because you know what I said last time,” Bruce reminded, “Time travel is risky business, and I made a—”

“A promise to one of Doctor Strange’s friends in 2012, yeah, yeah I know,” Peter said, finishing Bruce’s sentence and flashing him a confident smile. “Don’t worry, I moved on pretty quickly from that idea, and I’ve just had to accept that some things can’t change.”

A bitter lie, but nothing that would be too damaging.

“Ok, but I want you to know that the Avengers recently signed a contract with Hank Pym forbidding any of us from even _trying_ to replicate his formula – let alone using the particles for time travel purposes.” Bruce said sternly. Peter looked at the floor hating that he had to keep lying.

One word flashed around his head,

_Chronos_

“Don’t worry, really.” Peter smiled, eyes rising to meet Bruce’s. “I’ve totally moved on, and I want to work towards using my ideas to help other people move forward too and not stay stuck in the past.”

_Liar._ He hated how easily it came out of him.

“Ok,” Bruce said returning Peter’s smile and clapping him on the shoulder as they left the room, Peter shutting the door behind them. “That’s good, I just wanted to check in, but you know I trust you.”

“Thanks,” Peter replied, the word tasted like sawdust on his tongue.

“You looking after yourself? College can be a pretty big change,” Bruce said as they followed the corridor down to the staircase.

“Sure am,” Peter said, grinning and straightening the duffle bag on his shoulder. He was glad for a change of topic. “It’s pretty awesome and I feel like the stuff I’m learning might actually be able to do good at some point.”

“I’m sure it will!” Bruce said enthusiastically. “It’s always good when you actually enjoy what you’re studying, plus you can apply it to your work which is pretty great.”

As they reached the staircase they were joined by Wanda.

“Are you leaving so soon?” She said catching sight of Peter’s bag and the tablet in his hands.

“Yeah, there’s quite a few things that I need to take care of back in the city,” Peter replied, feeling a twinge of genuine disappointment. Out here at the compound he could almost forget the other 70% of his commitments, but he knew that hiding from the world wouldn’t make them go away. He’d tried that back in May and it hadn’t gotten him anywhere.

“Of course,” Wanda said, smiling. “I hope everything goes well with the Stark Expo, but don’t stretch yourself too thin, there’s only so much one person can do – even if that person is a seventeen-year-old with crazy insect genes.”

Peter laughed; Wanda enjoyed mistaking his age it seemed. She liked to pretend she was _a lot_ older and more mature, even though Peter was sure the gap couldn’t be more than five years. “Eighteen actually but thank you, I’ll try my best.”

At the foyer Peter found majority of the rest of the team waiting to see him off. Happy and May were waiting by the door to go out to the car, bags of Tupperware containers, no doubt holding leftovers, sitting on the floor beside them.

“Everything done then?” Happy asked, and Peter nodded the affirmative.

“It was good to see you again Peter. Stay in touch and make sure you come visit next time you’re in the city,” Carol said from where she stood at the top of the stairs that lead left into the kitchen.

Peter smiled. “I will.” He could sense the undertones of what she meant in her phrasing and was reminded of their conversation from earlier. He had a feeling that it wasn’t quite finished yet.

_A lot of things are being said about you._

_Why_ are _you angry?_

It appeared that Pepper and Morgan had already gone home during the hours he had spent tinkering around the compound, though Peter was sure he would see them some other time over the weekend. He was sad to have not been able to see Morgan off, but, on the other hand, it was probably good that they had left early because it meant that Peter could avoid any further questions from Pepper about the Expo.

Peter smiled at the people around him, but something about it felt forced. This wasn’t right, there were too many people missing. It must have looked a little like that too because as Peter was about to follow Happy and May out the door, Bruce caught his shoulder in a tight grip. Peter turned around, all his instincts telling him to step back when he saw the intense look in Bruce’s eyes. He looked like he was about to say something stern but then he sighed and his gaze softened.

“Just remember to keep living in the present kid. College should be one of the best experiences of your life, and it doesn’t do well to think about things that can’t be changed…”

Peter smiled nonchalantly, pretending he didn’t understand exactly what exactly Bruce was implying. So instead he just nodded, giving one last wave to the people waiting in the foyer before darting out the door to the buzzing engine of the waiting sedan.

_Some things can’t be changed…._ Peter mulled the thought over in his head as he opened the car door and jumped into the back seat.

Peter had a never-ending amount of respect for Bruce Banner, but he just couldn’t bring himself to agree with that statement, not when he was getting so close…

_Not when time travel was possible._


	7. new developments and nuisances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew it's been a while.   
> Thank you for everyone continuing to leave kind comments! Thank you for hanging around if you're still reading <3
> 
> I said it before but I'll say it again, I'll be trying to update this more regularly over the holidays but let's play it by ear yeah? 😂
> 
> Everything goes to absolute shit in the next chapter so be excited 🤭

“Ned, I’m sorry but I’m about to spill tea all over my work can you give me one second?” Peter didn’t wait for a reply as he removed the phone from his ear, careful not to upset the precarious balance he was attempting to maintain. 

Peter was late for work and he was carrying far too many things. He was trying to balance his Starbucks tea (Peter didn’t do coffee, it made him jumpy – well, more than usual) and keys in one hand as his phone tried to slip from the grip that his other hand had around papers and files. He might be Spider-Man, but he still only had two hands to work with. 

Peter had meant to get into Stark Industries at 8am and yet he was walking through the doors at 10:30, having slept in straight through his alarm. Not exactly normal for Peter, whose alarm sounded closer to a siren each morning. Most times he woke up with his Spidey senses tingling before it could even go off. 

Peter stopped at the reception desks in the lobby and set down his precarious stack, so his hands were free to retrieve his key card. He rifled through his pocket and pulled out his old Platinum X card, attached to a worn Midtown High School lanyard. Peter put his files into his satchel and with that hand now free, he proceeded to talk to Ned again. 

“I’m sorry, I just got to work, and it’s been a bit of a wild morning,” Peter apologised. “What was I saying?” 

“Actually, I was saying,” Ned corrected him with a laugh from the end of the line, “I had an interesting call with MJ last night…”

“Ahh…” Peter said quietly, unable to help the small smile that broke out on his face. 

“Dude,” Ned exclaimed, and Peter could picture his exasperated expression, “I can’t believe you told her. Isn’t that like a serious superhero no-no?” 

“Well, I told you,” Peter replied stopping outside the SI lifts. 

“Yeah, but I’m the guy in the chair, how would that work if I didn’t know?” 

“She’d pretty much figured it out on her own anyway.” 

“Sure, sure,” Ned said laughing on the other line, “look I need to go work on this paper, but I’ll talk to you later.”

“Yep,” Peter said smiling at the man who got into the lift after him and asked the elevator bot to take them to floor 8. 

“And tell me if anything goes down at the reunion tonight,” Ned said sounding almost too eager. 

“Do you really think I’d be able to get through this night without texting you the blow by blow of all the bull shit Flash is going to say?” Peter said more quietly, feeling a little self-conscious as they reached the eighth floor. The man stepped out and the silver doors slid closed behind him, leaving Peter to his phone call. 

“Alright, I really gotta go, but send me those texts so I can be there virtually or whatever.” 

“You got it,” Peter said and hung up. 

“Good morning Peter, floor 27?” Friday said over the intercom. 

“Hey Friday, 27 thanks,” Peter replied slipping his phone into the pocket of his jeans and withdrawing his Avengers clearance card case. As usual, he held the black box up to his face and tried not to blink as the retina scan was completed. The top of the box slid forward once his ID was accepted revealing the shiny card. He waved it in front of the scanner and felt the lift jolt slightly as it began to rise once more. 

“Oh, straight to 27 please!” Peter said hurriedly. That was important, no sense in travelling up and down the building whilst he waited for the morning elevator rush to reside. Or worse yet, try to get to his lab with someone else in the elevator with him. That would be the stupidest way for someone to discover his identity, and Peter had already had a few close encounters of a similar kind. 

Friday might have been able to override the in-built programming in the elevator that required Peter to scan his Avengers clearance card each time that he went to his lab, but he figured it was better safe than sorry. If anyone, even people he trusted, got into his lab everything would fall apart, each little part he had put into motion two months ago would crumble and he would be back where he started. He couldn’t let that happen. 

Peter ran his thumb up and down the seam of the Starbucks cup, his expression thoughtful as he turned his mind back to yesterday and the lingering memory of Bruce’s words of warning. 

Peter knew that Hank Pym had had issues in the past with people attempting to recreate his work, but having an actual contract with the Avengers? That was different. Though Peter was sure that his name wasn’t on the document, as he hadn’t signed anything recently, he couldn’t ignore the fact that what he was working on would come back to kick him in the ass if things went sideways. In fact, it was quite possible that it would come back to kick him in the ass regardless. 

He continued to mull his potential ass-kicking as the lift arrived. When the doors opened, the lights in the corridor were flickering. Peter spoke his name to the door when it asked and patiently waited, sipping his tea as it processed the information and slid to the side to reveal his lab. 

It was just as he had left it late on Wednesday night. He couldn’t ignore the fact that the lab was quickly becoming even more messy than his room at college, potentially more than his room back at May’s flat. Nevertheless, there was some method to his madness, order where no one else might see it. He set his tea down on the main bench along with the heavy satchel that he had brought with him. 

Peter double tapped the ON button of his holo-table and watched as it glowed to life. Opening his tablet, he transferred a folder to the holo-table and began scrolling through the analytics. 

“How is everything looking Karen?” Peter asked his AI, anxiously. “Did you run the new changes that I suggested?” 

“I did,” Karen said, and the schematics were brought up on the holo-table, a bunch of lines connected and moving in the shape of a particle. Peter’s eyes flickered over it and he used a hand to narrow in on different parts, so much so that he almost missed the most important part of the diagram. The green lettering at the top of the file-like formatting that read ‘PROTOTYPE COMPLETE – SUCCESSFUL’. 

“The new formula has proved successful so far, I believe it will hold up in testing.” 

“Oh my god!” Peter said fist pumping the air. “Yes!” 

They had done it. Peter had, against all odds, managed to recreate something that resembled Pym particles, he could only hope that their structure would hold up in testing. 

“Shall I start producing a test serum?” Karen prompted and Peter struggled to answer for a moment or two. 

“Um… yeah, definitely please,” Peter said, somewhat lost for words as he stood by the work bench in disbelief, letting the room fall to silence as Karen sent instructions to the small machine in the corner of the lab which burst to life and began to hum quietly as the tiny robots were put to work. 

“This, changes everything.” He whispered, absentmindedly rubbing his chin. 

Peter lost track of how long he was in the lab. His tea went cold as the sun tracked over the sky, getting closer and closer towards the horizon. 

Over the past months Peter had been in close enough positions as he was now, but never had his particles made it past the prototype stage to begin testing. His past attempts had lacked the structure to last any longer than a few seconds when exposed to Earth’s space and time. 

There was so much to do. He had not even entertained the fantasy of what might come next if he was successful. So, he started with the simplest question, how to create a suit to not only withstand the adapting of matter that would allow him to shrink, but also the harsh environment that came from going subatomic. Any data he had on going that small was left over predictions from Tony’s last project to go back in time and majority of that was theoretical with the occasional video of Scott, which wasn’t very conclusive either. Hearing Tony’s voice in the background of the recordings was more than difficult. But as much as his mentor’s voice hit close to his heart, he tried his best to hold hope that much closer. 

He consulted videos and diagrams of the Ant-Man suit, though he was limited in this capacity to a few crude videos and the scan that his Iron Spider suit had taken at some point during the battle against Thanos’ forces. Trawling back through that data had not been fun. Peter had not enjoyed seeing how his vitals had fluctuated throughout that whole fight, how low his serotonin and dopamine had fallen towards the end before the data dropped off for a month during which he hadn’t touched the suit. 

But now, things were different. This could be different. Afterall, Tony had done it for him and if Peter could somehow return the favour, if he could somehow fix the mess that had been left behind.

If these particles succeeded, going back through time and space, following the plans that Tony Stark had left on Peter’s hard drive, travelling far back, to a time where things were different. It would all be possible. Peter struggled to stop his mind jumping in every which way, where he would go, or rather when. 

Peter tapped his electronic pen on the corner of his desk as he looked over the new suit he had assembled on his tablet screen. The tech would hopefully ensure his cells survived the shrinking process. Peter had even taken the time to retrieve several of the Cross files that Tony had somehow acquired, to see exactly where he might go wrong. 

It wasn’t much, but it was enough. Besides, if Peter had managed to recreate a version of Pym particles the suit ought to be the easy part. 

As Peter scanned his eyes over the suit’s design one final time, he caught sight of the digital time in the corner of the screen. 

7:13pm

Peter swore. He was late. 

Swivelling on his chair he leant over to grab his phone which was at the other end of the bench. It had gradually progressed down there throughout the afternoon as papers were shifted and discarded. Once he got it the screen lit up to display several messages from MJ and a missed call. 

He swiped it open to quickly hurry out a response to the capitalised messages that MJ had sent in quick succession. Peter didn’t have time to hit send before MJ’s face appeared on the screen and he was forced to accept the call. 

“Hi…” He said hesitantly, trying to use his sweetest voice. 

“Where are you!” MJ exclaimed and Peter could hear talking in the background, but he couldn’t recognise any of the voices. 

“I’m just on my way,” Peter lied. 

MJ saw through it immediately, “you’re still at Stark Industries aren’t you!” 

“Yep,” Peter said, “but I’m leaving now, and I’ll be there in like 10 minutes?” 

“You’re ridiculous,” MJ grumbled on the other line. Peter smiled despite himself as he scrambled to put his shoes back on. “We’re all at the restaurant but I’ll save you a seat and make sure we don’t order without you.” 

“You’re the best,” Peter said in earnest and MJ sighed a relenting ‘I know’ on the other end. 

“I better see you soon,” she threatened and Peter, who had found himself in the hands of death on more than one occasion felt something closer to genuine fear. He hung up and resisted the urge to press his head against the cool metal of his bench top. A reunion was the last thing that he wanted to do tonight. 

“Karen, I have to go but the suit is ready so can you send that through to get it started,” Peter said as he grabbed his wallet and Midtown lanyard and put them into the pocket of his coat. “I’ll probably be back later to check on everything.” 

“Excellent,” Karen replied, “before you leave, I feel I need to tell you that I’ve had contact with Genevieve this afternoon. I would have told you earlier, but I didn’t want to disrupt your work.” 

“Really?” Peter said surprised, tucking his coat over his arm. “Have there been any problems with her functioning.” He had been keeping an eye on the AI, if keeping an eye was glancing at her analytics last night before he went to bed and hardly making sense of the squiggly lines but deciding everything had to be fine because nothing was flashing red. 

“Nothing like that, but it appears that she has utilised some of the data that George has been collecting, she sent us this.” With that Karen brought up a set of graphs on the holo-table and Peter drew closer, enlarging one with his hand. 

“It would seem that she has been drawing information from all sorts of databases, not only has she included George’s media data but she’s collated statistics from the police, the courts and other facets. She’s noted significant discrepancies in recent weapons and munitions companies from several states and the arrival of several unregistered vehicles that have entered the city in recent weeks.” Peter watched, wide eyed, as security camera footage appeared on the holo-table, four separate cameras detailing four, separate grey trucks. 

“What does she suspect… or suggest I guess,” Peter said, scratching the back of his neck, he couldn’t deny that the statistics he had been shown were unusual and kind of worrying. It was the sort of thing that would be overlooked by the state police until it was too late. 

“In the interest of your wellbeing and safety, she believes it would be beneficial for you to be prepared for potential conflict in the lower Manhattan area, but she is struggling to narrow it down farther than that. After reviewing her data, I too believe it is a good idea.” 

“That being said, it is not certain that such an event will occur tonight, but it looks likely to happen over the next week,” Karen said. 

“Crap…” Peter muttered, he’d be gone by Monday and wouldn’t be around to help if there was some sort of terrorist attempt. “Has she told the Avengers any of this?” 

“Not yet though I suspect her programming will require her to soon.” 

“Alright,” Peter said coming to a decision quickly, perhaps too fast but he was feeling the pressure of wanting to make it to dinner on time. “I’ll take a suit out with me tonight, one of the Nano tech ones probably and then follow up with the team tomorrow morning, they’ll be able to send in help or at least keep an eye on things next week.” 

“The Nano suits aren’t as strong as your other ones, Peter.” 

“It’ll do for now, and if I need backup you can always send the drones,” he said walking to retrieve the suit from the numerous cases that he had lined up against the back wall of the lab. On the far left was a display case that was sat horizontal, rather than vertical. 

Peter didn’t have to wait as Karen unlocked the top of the glass compartment, the door slid back with a slight hiss. Set atop polished silver stands were three mechanic spiders, about the size of Peter’s fist. Each one, when activated, used Nano technology to encase his body in a suit. They more or less functioned in the same way that the rest of his Spider-Man suits did, but despite the strength of the Nano tech he had found the suits deteriorated much faster under duress. He hadn’t recalled that being the case with Tony’s suits and Peter couldn’t figure out what he was doing wrong. 

“The lab will remain online for the night, so I can keep preparing the test samples and in case you require assistance,” Karen said, and Peter thought he could hear worry in her voice. 

“Thanks, Karen,” Peter said turning the spider over in his hands. He momentarily set his coat down on the bench as he reached behind his back to place the spider squarely between his shoulder blades. It clicked a little bit as it tried to find a comfortable space to hook into his clothing. Peter experimentally moved his shoulders up and down and when he was sure that it wouldn’t fall off, he shrugged his coat on over the top. 

“I hope you have a nice night, Peter,” Karen said as he walked towards the door and the lights in the lab switched off, though his screens and the machines hard at work in the corner glowed blue as they continued their tasks diligently. 

“Me too,” Peter said softly as the door to the lab closed behind him and he waited for the lift. He had begun getting jittery already, the nerves instilled by Genevieve’s data and Karen’s concerns humming in his brain. It would be alright, he told himself. He had to be on alert tonight, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy his night out with his old high school friends. Peter knew he had to have confidence in his own abilities and senses, and with Karen and the suit quite literally having his back, surely there was little to worry about. 

Several subway stops and a ten minute walk left Peter standing on the footpath as he craned his head to get a good look past the glass doors of a very fancy restaurant. He glanced down at his phone and triple checked the address that Flash had sent them all. It was definitely the right place. Hesitantly, Peter slipped his phone into the inside pocket of his coat, he suddenly felt very underdressed. 

It was the sight of MJ waiting behind the glass that made him feel somehow simultaneously at ease and dreadfully nervous. 

“You,” MJ said punching Peter’s shoulder lightly as he walked in and out of the cold. “I can’t believe you’re so late!” 

“Only half an hour,” Peter said rubbing his shoulder and letting his mouth droop at MJ’s coldness. “If anything, I’m fashionably late.”

“You’re actually terrible,” MJ said and finally relented, casting Peter a bright smile. “Come on, we’re ordering now.” 

She grabbed Peter’s hand and guided him through the candle-lit tables. The lighting in general had a subdued feeling to it that was almost rustic but in a very luxurious way. Peter should have predicted this when Flash said that he’d made a reservation at a restaurant in Manhattan. As usual, Flash was apparently quick to take any opportunity to flaunt his money at them. They were all supposed to be broke university students so what on earth had made him think they could afford to eat at a restaurant that had 4 dollar signs next to its reviews on Yelp. 

While everyone else in the restaurant was sat at tables of two, with a few threes and fours mixed in, Flash had gotten them a table that sat fifteen. It wasn’t the entire cohort of ’23 (what should have been the class of ’18 for most of them) but it was most of the people that Peter had spent his high school years at Midtown with. 

“Parker, you finally showed up!” Flash said standing up as Peter arrived. 

“No need to stand Flash, he’s not the queen,” Betty said snidely, and Peter cringed. It seemed Flash had already managed to put some of his ex-classmates in a bad mood. 

Flash scowled at her comment and returned to his seat but continued to talk as MJ took Peter to a seat near her, thankfully as far away from Flash as could be. “Now that everyone is here, I just wanted to let you know that this restaurant comes under my father’s hotel chain, so you don’t have to worry about paying because it’s all on the house.” 

From the excited murmurs and thanks, it had been the right thing to say and the mood around the table shifted. A meal for free, at an expensive restaurant like this? Peter was unlikely to get the opportunity twice. Besides he was with his sort-of-probably girlfriend so he might as well seize the opportunity and enjoy it.

Slowly the prospect of the supposed terror threat that had hung dauntingly at the back of his mind and between his shoulders began to seem less important.


	8. disasters and debacles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shit hits the fan... then a bridge too.

In truth, Peter ended up enjoying the meal so much that he forgot about Genevieve’s supposed terror threat.

With the rush of working at SI and moving to MIT, Peter had forgotten what it was like to be around his high school friends. It wasn’t that he missed the people themselves, to put it perfectly honestly, it was more that he missed the way that he fit. Peter had never been one to _fit in_ but after everything he had been through with his Midtown classmates there was a sense of familiarity that came with being around them and Peter hadn’t realised quite how much he missed the feeling.

Everything had changed so much in the last year and for once, not having to make a conscious effort to introduce himself, explain his degree and his interests was a relief. That wasn’t to say he hadn’t enjoyed a new place and some new faces, but it grew tiring. At least around this table there was history, knowledge and experience, regardless of whether it was all good or bad.

At present, they were nearing the end of dessert. The assorted tarts and elaborate miniature cakes had come out on tiered trays to be shared across the table. Peter nibbled at the edge of a small cheesecake topped with a strawberry and some sort of gold dusting that he was pretty sure was edible. The whole meal had been so filling that he couldn’t bring himself to eat much dessert – which was unusual for Peter whose appetite was second to none at the compound.

MJ was talking to Brad who, annoyingly, was sat opposite them on the long table. Peter tried not to find him too irritating because Brad was being remarkably _ok_ tonight. It was difficult to forget the number of unwanted advances he had made on MJ after graduation, but Peter knew that she could handle herself. She’d made it clear to Brad exactly what she was and _wasn’t_ looking for.

Brad had probably noticed how touchy MJ had been with Peter as the night went on. It was small things, touching the place where his hair met his neck, grasping his hand, bumping her shoulder against his and letting it sit there. Peter wasn’t sure if it was the heating inside the restaurant, but his face felt quite warm.

Brad had brought out his phone and was stretching it out over the table so that MJ could see the photos he had taken atop Sydney Harbour Bridge, having climbed it during his trip to Australia in August. MJ took the phone from him and looked closer at the view.

“That’s seriously cool, I’d love to see a view like that,” MJ mused handing the phone back to him.

Peter had been watching there exchange out of the corner of his eye whilst trying to pay attention to whatever idiotic nonsense Flash was spouting.

That wasn’t really fair, Flash had been extraordinarily reasonable throughout the night. There was nothing remotely quotable that Peter could pass onto Ned which was both fortunate and unfortunate at the same time. He knew that Ned was upset he couldn’t make it and having to work on things for class definitely wouldn’t be helping. Instead, Peter sent a photo of some of the desserts and chuckled at the photo Ned sent back, a terrible selfie in which he was knocking his head against the desk with the caption ‘bring some back for me?’

‘we have cheesecake at home – this probably isn’t any better’ Peter typed back. It was a lie, the cheesecake here was _definitely_ better than whatever they had in the fridge. As he waited for a reply Peter flicked through his apps, eventually coming to land on the weather app. It was better than it had been in the last two days and there was supposed to be brilliant visibility of the New York skyline. Peter was hoping he’d be back in the city at some point to see snow.

Brad was still enthralling MJ with his tales of Australia and visiting the Great Barrier Reef – which interested MJ immensely. Peter knew that she wanted to be able to visit before the beautiful coral reef was bleached and destroyed by climate change.

As they were already in lower Manhattan, Peter decided to do a quick google search of the best place to get a view of the city on a night like this. Naturally, the first, and closest, landmark to pop up was the Manhattan Bridge. It was only a fifteen-minute walk and Peter was sure that they’d have almost as an amazing view from the top as one might have from Sydney Harbour bridge.

Peter lingered on the fence about the idea, it was stupid to be jealous of the long conversation (that he knew was perfectly harmless) between Brad and MJ. But in truth Peter did really want to give MJ a bit of a show, she had seen him swinging around the city and had seen him on the news, but he wanted to show her what he was capable of as Peter Parker, not Spider-Man. 

So when it came time to wrap up and Flash was pulled away to add the meal to his family tab (or however these things were managed – Peter wasn’t really knowledgeable in fine dining), Peter hung onto MJ’s elbow so that they were a few steps behind everybody getting ready to leave.

“Hey,” he said, and she squeezed his arm in return, hooking her elbow with his.

“Everything good?” MJ asked.

“Yeah, I just had this idea and the weather’s so nice and I thought it would be kind of cool, you know skyline – good view…” He was rambling.

“You gonna tell me what any of that was about?” MJ said gesturing to his stumbling but smiled affectionately and tugged him closer.

“Sorry… I just thought maybe because it’s such a nice night and,” Peter looked at his phone, “it’s only 9:45, that we might do a little exploring of Manhattan, go to the bridge, get a nice view of the skyline since it’s such a clear night.”

“Maybe head up a little higher than the general public,” Peter whispered quietly by her ear, not intending it to be as suggestive as it sounded.

MJ’s mouth quirked upwards as she looked sideways at Peter, trying to gage what he was suggesting. Peter bit his lip, the back of his neck warming in embarrassment. 

“Alright,” she said grinning as they made it to the front of the restaurant and attendants helped them to their coats. “A detour to the Manhattan Bridge sounds great!”

“Manhattan Bridge?” Said an annoying voice from behind them as Peter finished pulling on his coat, he tried not to throw his head back too dramatically as he heaved a sigh.

MJ was the one to reply, “Yeah, actually Peter and I were just going to go walk down to Manhattan Bridge and take some photos.”

“At this time of night?” Flash asked raising his eyebrows, “that bridge gets kind of dodgy.”

Peter wasn’t sure what Flash’s interpretation of ‘dodgy’ was – probably joggers wearing Target sneakers instead of Adidas. Or god forbid – they run with cords attaching their earbuds to their phones rather than Airpods! Whatever the other boy meant; Peter was _quite_ sure that if he could handle hordes of Thanos’ forces – he’d be fine with a few shady people on a bridge.

“We’ll be fine, thanks Flash,” Peter said, trying not to grit his teeth and managed a smile.

“No, seriously I insist,” Flash said as he smiled a thanks to the man holding the door as the fifteen of them emerged out onto the chilly streets. “The limo was going to be going in that direction anyway, so I can take you that far at least and anyone else who wants to come.”

“Come where?” someone asked as they all crowded the sidewalk. A few people had waved and left already, those who remained were moving around and trying to get warm in the chill of the night air.

“Manhattan bridge, it’s a nice night so what about a little soul searching?” Flash said raising his hands and as if he had some sort of magical power a sleek limousine pulled up to the curb beside them.

“This is mad.” Peter wasn’t mad about the limousine; it was more so about his date with MJ being turned into a group trip. Peter had terrible luck with field trips.

“I’m down,” Brad said.

Of course, Peter thought, of course Brad is ‘down for it’.

There were a few others who echoed consensus and, in the end, there was a total of eight, including himself who piled into the limo and disappeared behind tinted windows.

Peter almost felt sure that Flash had somehow planned all this – but he himself had only thought of the idea half an hour ago so that wasn’t possible. But the limo was stocked with food and sodas to pour into little champagne flutes.

Peter had hoped for a swift fifteen-minute walk through the streets of lower Manhattan, with MJ at his side and their breath puffing in the air. They’d probably hold hands and stay close, invisible to the world, just another couple on a date on a Friday night.

Instead Peter found himself squished to Flash’s side in the back seat of the limo whilst MJ sat on the longer seat next to Brad. Why was this beginning to feel too much like he was back in high school? Not that any of their field trips had started in limo’s after a very expensive meal, that was for sure.

It was a short drive, but Flash still made sure to have his driver put music on and encouraged everyone to have a good time whilst they could, passing around soda and snacks. There was definitely something different about Flash this time around. When Peter looked back to the Flash he knew before the snap he was still as obnoxious and annoying but it had turned into something more desperate, as though he longed for his classmates approval in a way he never had before, or at least not that Peter had noticed. It certainly didn’t make him feel any more sympathetic when Flash started leaning across him and trying to talk to Betty who was sat at Peter’s right.

The fresh air was a cool relief when they finally made it outside to where the driver had stopped at the base of the Manhattan Bridge. With everyone out, breath puffing before them, they gradually began walking to the pedestrian part of the towering structure.

Peter ducked out of Flash’s way as he began to lead the way, tracking back to squeeze next to MJ and pointedly ignoring the annoyed look that Brad cast him with a look of his own. Reluctantly Brad peeled off from them and returned to the rest of the group.

MJ pressed closer to Peter and linked their arms together.

“I’m sorry,” Peter said squeezing her hand. “This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

“I know,” MJ said quietly, “we can just entertain Flash’s whim and split off from them later.”

“I know I could show you a great view from the top,” Peter said quietly looking up as they stepped out onto the pedestrian bridge. The roar of cars and the occasional train was frustratingly loud, but it wasn’t all that bad and aided in hiding their conversation from the curious ears of their classmates. Based on the sly looks the pair was getting, they’d caught on to the fact that Peter and MJ were dating.

“You can’t imagine how much I’d love to walk all over the precious bridge the department of transport maintains with tax payer money whilst continuously raising their subway tickets,” MJ said sweetly and though Peter had been more gearing towards her seeing as good a view as that from Sydney Harbour bridge, the added spite she found in the activity was a bonus.

They had trailed even further behind the rest of the group now, some of whom were beginning to turn around and snap photos on their phones. A quick look over his shoulder showed part of the city lit up against the dark night sky. The weather had been right; this was the perfect night for a good photo.

“I say about another 50 yards and when we get to the first pillar we sneak off,” Peter whispered in MJ’s ear, his lips brushed against her hair.

“Do you have a y’know –” MJ gestured her hand at him – “suit? Or are we just going to climb up there?”

“I have a suit,” Peter said and took her hand, guiding it to his back right between his shoulder blades. He pressed her hand against the mechanic spider.

“That’s it?”

“Yeah,” Peter said grinning at MJ’s look of wonder. “All it takes is for you to press it right in the centre.” He brought her hand a little lower so that she could feel the indent of the button in the middle of the spider.

“This is still so weird,” MJ said shaking her head and smiling at the ground.

“Good weird?” Peter asked, trying not to let the worry edge into his voice.

“I think so?” MJ replied, but not confidently enough for Peter to feel better about his decision to tell her. But he couldn’t bring himself to regret it, he knew it was the right thing to do and any longer and their relationship probably would have stopped in its tracks. Long distance was difficult enough without hiding such a significant part of his identity. 

They were getting closer to the first enormous tower of the Manhattan Bridge. Even when he had lived in the city Peter hadn’t been one to frequent the big New York City bridges. From a distance it was often easy to convince oneself that they weren’t as big and imposing as they actually were. But up close, it was clear quite how much metal work was required to support the seven car lanes that raced above their heads.

Peter prepared to sweep MJ off her feet, thoughts of swinging her up and above and into the sky filled his head. He remembered her arm sliding around his back for security

Then, out of nowhere, 4 things happened in quick succession. Even after the event he would recall these first 4 things first, 4 things that signalled something very bad had just happened. Afterall, Peter had always like his numbers.

Firstly, there was a shattering boom that in memories sounded like the earth had split open beneath them and left Peter’s ears feeling like they were bleeding.

The second thing he noticed as the way that the thick industrial concrete walkway underneath their feet trembled and began to crumble.

And thirdly, before everything after that became something of a wild blur, Peter noticed MJ clutching at his arm and her hand sliding down to the spider and hitting it forcefully. Within seconds the nano tech had moved into place and Peter found himself encased in the Spider-Man suit. The feeling was familiar, the tightness of the suit over his skin, the screens over his eyes that filtered through all of the interference that distracted his senses which lit up red as information began scrawling across. All this was interrupted by the fourth thing – Peter was falling. 

And it wasn’t just him. The section of the pedestrian bridge they had been crowded on had entirely collapsed – and that wasn’t the only damage that had been sustained.

The boom and smoke cleared his head somehow and Peter felt ridiculous for overlooking his duties, his responsibilities – especially on a night when he had been _aware_ that something might happen, he’d had direct intel for Christ’s sake!

All these thoughts darted through his head quicker than light, but his body was faster yet. His freefall was cut off with a harsh lurch as he stretched his arm out and a web flew to latch around one of the steel beams that towered above him.

Peter landed easily on the railing by the road and used a hand to steady himself on a thick wire. The suit echoed his thoughts, read each neural transmission and peeled away from his feet, allowing him to kick his shoes off and for the built in heel of the suit to wrap more securely around his feet. In the process he shucked off his winter coat and haphazardly threw it behind him.

Peter’s eyes darted as he read all the information that his suit was displaying but in the end, he didn’t have time for schematics or status reports and threw himself into the fray.

The explosion had gone off less than 10 yards from where they had all been walking, targeting the sturdy structure of the underside of the bridge and the immense pylons that rooted it in place. The bridge was emitting creaks and groans underneath his feet which worried him greatly. Some of the cars behind him were screeching and tearing across the road trying to make it to freedom, whilst others had deserted their vehicles and were trying to run.

Peter jumped off the bridge and swung underneath. He could see several of his classmates already safe and running further across the bridge, the way behind them burning and crumbling. How did they always manage to get themselves involved with explosions? Every goddamn time.

Flash was clinging to the railing when Peter landed next to him.

“Run!” Peter yelled gripping Flash’s arm tightly. “Get them further away and off of the bridge if you can! Can you do that?”

Flash didn’t say anything as he looked up at Spider-Man, but swallowed and turned tail. Peter couldn’t be sure if Flash had recognised his voice, or worse yet seen the suit go on but there really wasn’t time to think about that.

A few of his classmates had tried to run back the other way when the explosion went off and were caught in the beams under the bridge – quite possibly the worst place to go when a bridge was threatening to come down on top of you. Peter fired several webs in quick succession to make a bridge of his own across the section of the pedestrian walkway that had collapsed and yelled at them to start walking across.

But they were too slow, too scared of falling to the icy waters below to make even a few steps across before they were backtracking to the presumed safety of the iron giant at their backs.

“This structure isn’t stable, you need to get off the bridge,” Peter yelled at them, pointing the way they had come – to the section that had remained intact through it all.

The four of them look at him with eyes that didn’t seem very promising – the fear was something he had seen before. The bridge groaned and Peter echoed its sentiments as sirens began to wail from above and the whup whup of a helicopter sounded overhead.

“Come here,” Peter called and held a hand out.

Betty was first and she took his hand gratefully, Peter guided her along the bridge of webs, almost throwing her the last meter, onto more stable ground and she took off running in the direction of safety. Peter helped the other three, and they too, fled for safety.

“Peter!” A voice shrieked.

Peter spun around desperately but all the pedestrians on the bridge had fled further down – either back to the city or in the direction of the southern end of the bridge.

“Peter, scans show a civilian under the bridge,” Karen’s voice said in his ear, the first time that she had spoken so far that night. Though she was an AI, there was a cold air to her voice.

“MJ!” Peter yelled and jumped over the railing, his hands and feet sticking to the steel as he climbed underneath the bridge.

“Hold on,” Peter cried dropping down further, so he was just holding on by his hands and tried to swing over to her. They were caught on either side of the explosion range, fire and smoke billowed between them and MJ coughed painfully.

“I am…” she said. Past the smoke, Peter could see the moisture on her fingers and the steel bar she was desperately gripping, making it dangerously more slippery the longer she was there. Peter tried not to look at the burn that arched up her right forearm, blistering painfully.

MJ caught his attention again, right as he was about to reach for her, “Peter,” she struggled out her face wet with tears but eyes hard with determination, “there’s another one, there.”

Peter looked in the direction she had turned her head. Not 10 yards away was a cluster of explosives, set to go off. Manufacturer names were printed on the grey boxes wired to the steel, the same names that Karen and Genevieve had showed him that afternoon. Peter’s heart clenched.

00:09 a counter atop one read. 00:08.

“Destroy that, I can keep hanging here a little longer,” MJ said and tried to smile but it was a pained grimace followed by a whimper as she continued to struggle.

Peter wanted to move forward and reach for her, but there was no way to get through the fire. He’d have to go around it. By that time MJ would have fallen and the next set of explosives would have gone off. It was MJ or the explosives.

9 seconds wasn’t enough, it would never be enough time. Perhaps he could contain the explosion with webbing somehow? But he only had webs rigged to cause explosions – he’d never thought to invent some that could prevent or mitigate the damage of such fire power.

It was the thinking, the decision and weighing up of the consequences that cost them both. In a split-second Peter made the decision. He shot two webs at MJ’s hands, webbing them together and then shot a third to link her hands to the safety of the steel at his own back.

He then threw himself past her, through fire and smoke and felt the nanotech trying to resist the extreme heat but knew their integrity would be disintegrating in the high temperatures. He should have listened to Karen, to Gen, he should have _just listened!_

Peter didn’t register the pain of the heat from inside the suit and instead extended his hands out towards the explosives and the suit fired web after web, hundreds of large net webbing, in a desperate attempt to contain the explosion. He saw the timer reach its final second and felt the way the air around him shifted – the huge bubble of force that was sent out as fire and smoke filled his vision and steel flew in all directions. The final web he shot didn’t come from him, at least he didn’t think it was his decision that fired it, but it caught onto something high above and he was yanked upwards just as his feet brushed icy water.

As he swung upwards Peter’s eyes went first to MJ and he was relieved to see her still hanging, though apparently unconscious. An uncontrollable noise lurched from his chest. Just then emergency workers reached her, and he tried not to rejoice at the fluorescent vests that meant he wasn’t alone. Peter watched long enough for them to start reeling her up by his webs and had to trust that they would handle the situation from there.

He had another catastrophic situation to deal with. After two explosions in such quick succession and in such close range to each other, the integrity of the bridge was seriously failing. The mountains of steel from the towers above that weighed the damaged section of the bridge down was the most immediate issue. The bridge began to sink, as though someone had tied a string to its underside and pulled, letting gravity do the rest of the work. It was like it was being sucked into a large sinkhole.

Except Peter couldn’t let that happen.

The mysterious web that he hadn’t shot pulled him top side and Peter stumbled as he landed between two cars who had apparently collided before their owners had abandoned them and run. Peter fired webs to the top of the tower and linked them with the tarmac of the bridge. He joined together pieces of bridge that had been damaged and tied and knotted his webs together to try and make them stay.

The bridge was still groaning but it wasn’t moving anymore, and Peter had to hope that it was enough for now – there were other problems coming to light. No one he had ever fought had stopped at two attacks, not on a bridge like this. There had to be more.

Peter was breathing heavily as he jumped on top of cars and used them as stepping stones, running further down the bridge, helping any stragglers on the way and directing them to the police and first responders who were coalescing at both ends of the bridge and to the helicopters who were aiding the scene from above and lifting those injured to safety. They were doing their job, so Peter had to do his.

“Karen, I need –“

“Your drones,” Karen’s clipped voice jutted in, “they have already arrived, I suspected you’d be needing back up.”

On a small screen in the corner of his eyesight appeared the shaking vision of a drone who whizzed past Peter’s head, off to scan beneath and further up the bridge.

“Do we have any idea how many more explosives might be rigged to go off?” Peter asked.

“Based on the amount of stock that is missing from the three manufacturers, disregarding any outliers, there is potentially another ten sights set to explode,” Karen responded as Peter climbed, yet again over the railing.

“Thanks Karen, can you—” Peter began, but yet again, the AI was several steps ahead of him.

“I have already contacted the Avengers and those who are nearest are on their way.”

“Thanks Karen,” Peter said as his gaze narrowed in on the first set of explosives, the blue timer steadily ticking down, “and I’m sorry, I should have—”

“Peter,” Karen’s voice sounded kinder but perhaps his brain was imagining it, “focus on this now.”

It was all he needed to zone in on the task at hand. Every part of his body became geared towards disarming the explosive. He didn’t need to ask as Karen brought up the plans of the particular bombs he found before him. Peter’s arms burned as he tore off the metal casing of the largest box, underneath lay the main reactor that was linked to the timer. 01:03. Far off ahead, his drone flew on, identifying the next bomb and the one after that, they seemed to go on and on.

Peter linked a web from one side of the explosives to the other and used it as a sort of hammock to lean against as he surveyed what he was up against. From there he worked quickly to neutralise the threat, sorting through wires whilst running chemical compounds through his head as he figured out exactly what was making these particularly ones go boom. The timer froze and blinked red once before turning off. He felt his heart seize a moment and leant back against the cushioning of his web before remembering the other 9 that Karen had spoken of.

One by one, Peter neutralised the bombs before they could cause any more damage. It was sneaky, setting them off within two minutes of each other so that there was no way to stop the damage. People trying to escape would have been caught at every explosion if Peter wasn’t there. But Peter _was_ , and he knew what to do and he was trying, goddamn it he was really trying.

He had thought that with each dismantled bomb it would become easier, they weren’t any different from each other and the process was the same. But as each timer stopped Peter began to feel more lethargic. His fingers shook so much he almost made some serious mistakes, but he could do nothing but keep trying. Never pausing between bombs, simply heading to the next and hoping he had as much of his two minutes remaining to dismantle them.

Often when Peter worked sound around him would disappear. His brain filtering through the irrelevant chatter, occasionally it picked up on important things to overhear, but otherwise he was very good at blocking things out when he was in the zone. That wasn’t the case here. The sirens sounded a hundred times louder, even though he was getting further away from them. The whup whup of the helicopter above felt like a thud at his back with every spin on the propellers. Most of all, the beeping of the explosive was like a metal rod pricking further and further into his brain and there was no escape.

In the end Peter had dismantled 6 of the remaining 10 and was moving onto the seventh when his suit started to fall apart. The fire earlier had been too much for some parts of it, but the nanotech was good at reassigning itself to more useful areas during such high adrenaline situations as these. Peter had uncovered his faced long ago to let himself breath better but kept his ‘eyes on’ so he could see the plans of the explosives. His hands and arms were bare, so were his legs, save his feet. The suit had reassigned itself to his heart and his neck and the tools he was using to pull apart the explosives before they pulled apart him.

7\. Peter had never been a fan of the number. He liked most prime numbers well enough but there was something that irked him about seven.

His hands trembled as he went in for the final incision of the seventh set of explosives, legs tensed and ready to move onto eight as soon as this one was stable.

He wasn’t sure what made it happen. A hand spasm, maybe he blinked a fraction of a second too long, but Peter’s hand slipped.

“Peter—” came Karen’s warning but it was too late. The mistake cost him everything. Number 7’s timer, which had been at a less than comfortable 01:34, began to drop faster than seconds had any right to. Peter tried to fix his mistake, cutting the right piece of wire, but it was too late. The damage had been done.

Peter had run out of ideas by the time it reached 00:01, so he let go. His body was exhausted from the high-pressure bursts of adrenaline that he had demanded of it. He didn’t fall quick enough and when the explosion went off, the heat caught him, it enveloped him and trapped him in smoke and sweltering temperatures. Peter felt the sting of fire on his skin, in his nose, his lungs, his eyes. The pain was so great that at the time he didn’t hear the final three explosions that fired off in quick succession further down the bridge.

Peter threw up his hands to shield his face and something in his helpless brain decided to save himself and a web flew from his wrist.

Peter stayed there, swinging back and forth as the bridge began to collapse further south. Chunks falling off into the water, a great tower tilting dangerous as thick wires tried to restrain it. The sirens continued, the helicopter grew louder and behind it all the sound of collapsing steel as the monument was sent, piece by piece, into the water.

Peter wanted to escape the all too familiar thoughts that ran around his head in the aftermath as he hung there shivering, 30 yards above the chill of the east river. Thoughts of those he had failed, those who had gotten injured and god forbid anyone who had lost their life. They had all been counting on him and yet again, he had failed. He always did.

He’d been here once before, years ago. He’d gotten ahead of himself, thought that having the new suit and superhuman abilities meant that he could go around saving the world. He was a naïve child who thought that even if he shouted and screamed, no one would heed his warnings. He’d had Tony at his back then but here he was alone. There was no billionaire, philanthropist, father-figure to save him and his mistakes now.

He’d known about the threat and had been too arrogant, too conceited and selfish. He had shirked his duty, a duty he had tried to abandon months before but had decided _no_. This was what he wanted his life to be, he had decided to _try._

But this was where the trying got him. Hanging from a bridge, half clothed and half singed. A broken suit. And rather than face all the thoughts that raced up to yell at him and his stupidity, he let them all go away and didn’t protest when exhaustion led him to the darkness that waited. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thank you for reading if you've made it this far! 
> 
> I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday, no matter how you celebrate, and got to spend welcome time with family and friends <3 If your holidays aren't always an easy time don't forget the new year is almost here and there is always time for change. 
> 
> Did you enjoy the chapter? I hope so, it's been a while since I wrote this but I feel that I'm getting back into the swing of things. Have some really exciting chapters coming soon <3


	9. dreamscapes and damage control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Thank you to those who took the time to read my work throughout 2019, you really made my year! It makes me so grateful to hear that people enjoy my writing and I only hope that I can provide in the future :) 
> 
> I think I'll be trying to post once a week from now on (I know I said this months ago but I'm really trying this time). I've found all the excitement I thought I had lost about this fic so I've been madly typing the last few days. I have some great Irondad/spiderson on the way in a few chapters and I'm so excited to write it for you! I can only hope you all enjoy reading it too :)

# VOLUME TWO: FINALS

Peter dreamed.

He was running, feet hitting the ground one after the other. He wasn’t sure why he was running, only that he was. He was conscious of the beats hitting harsh ground but couldn’t see or feel anything else around him. Peter stumbled when the ground softened, and he began to sink. Cold water swallowed his legs, waist, torso, all the way up to his neck.

He began to swim. One arm after the other, his legs beating desperately behind him. In the distance he could see pin pricks of light floating atop a mass of darkness that he assumed to be land.

No matter how hard Peter kicked his legs, he didn’t feel like he was going anywhere. His arms felt like lead as he dragged them through the water. The water grew thicker, pulling Peter down to whatever lay below. He took a last gasping breath before he was dragged under.

When Peter opened his eyes this time, he was in the compound. Not his compound, the _old_ one. He was in his room, but it wasn’t his room at all. 

Tony Stark stood before him. His mentor was dressed casually in a t shirt and jeans, but Peter couldn’t see where they were, or when. There was a lot that his brain seemed to be omitting, he eyes couldn’t even register his hands before him. 

“You’re still being reckless!” Tony yelled; Peter flinched at the raised voice. “How am I supposed to trust you if you never listen to instructions!”

“I don’t—” Peter began to say he didn’t understand what was happening, or where he was.

“You need to learn that every single thing you do effects everyone around you,” Tony said sternly, putting his hands on Peter’s shoulders, “that’s a part of the gig, kid.”

“I’m trying.” Peter heard himself speaking but couldn’t feel his mouth moving.

You’ll never be able to truly help people if you keep trying to change the past.”

“But—” Peter tried yet again to speak but Tony was faster.

“Stop searching.”

The scene dissolved and Peter suddenly found himself kneeling on the ground of a worn battlefield. The air smelt like blood and earth and the tangy aroma of firepower. There was sobbing, Pepper’s by the sounds of it. His own face was wet with tears. Not far away the once insistent but now weakening beat of a heart, _thud…_ _thud……_ _thud._

A light so bright, burnt out and extinguished in a matter of hours.

_Stop searching._

Peter was running again. In the distance there was gathered a small crowd all dressed in black on the shore of a lake by a lodge in a forest. A peaceful place coloured by incomparable loss. Peter was crying and his hand was outstretched as he ran but no matter how fast he went he couldn’t reach them.

_Stop!_ He was crying. _Don’t let him go!_

Peter woke with a start.

The first thing that he noticed was the scent of antiseptic. It always made his nose itch. It had been like that even before he’d been bitten by a radioactive spider. But his heightened senses now gave it a painful sting.

“Peter? Can you hear me?” May’s familiar voice made Peter open his eyes.

“Oh honey,” May said and he felt a hand against his cheek. The light above was bright, and he groaned, reaching up to cover his eyes. “MJ can you switch the lights off, they irritate him.”

“Sure thing, Ms Parker.” There was a click and the room started to come into better focus.

“What happened,” Peter tried to say, but his mouth was dry and it came out sounding more like ‘mwa hatten’.

“There was an accident.” May’s voice was slow and steady, and Peter felt himself relax for the briefest of moments. The hold that the nightmare had on him receded but was quickly replaced by the horrifying memories of everything that had happened at Manhattan Bridge. Peter sat up roughly. 

He was in what appeared to be hospital bed – which explained the smell of antiseptic. The cotton bedsheet was rubbing against his bare legs and there were two hard pillows at his back. He felt medical tape holding an IV drip in place on his arm and the pull of other monitors stuck to his chest.

The room was much nicer than what he’d seen of other hospital rooms. The walls were a warm grey and the floors appeared to be dark hardwood. Windows lined the wall to his left accompanied by blue drapes at either end. Aside from his bed the room was largely empty, save for a small table laden with flowers and two chairs in the corner, one of which was occupied by MJ. Her hair was messy and hanging around her face, her eyes were hollowed by tiredness and travelling up her right forearm was a thick bandage. Peter swallowed and his fingers twitched anxiously. In the other chair sat Pepper Potts, her forehead creased with concern. Her attention had been on the files in her lap, but she now looked towards Peter.

“The bridge.” It was all Peter could get out before his head dropped into his hands. That was when he noticed that there were thin white bandages wrapped around his fingers. He raised his head to look at them, flexing his hands experimentally – he didn’t sense any pain, from anywhere in his body in fact. 

“Your hands and arms were burnt,” May said, rubbing his back comfortingly. “Carol was the first to get there, but she had to stay and help stabilise the bridge, it was Director Fury who helped you to the hospital.” Peter frowned, Nick Fury wasn’t one to get involved with anything as public as this, preferring to target the more threatening but low-profile missions.

“I don’t remember any of that.”

“You wouldn’t,” May said sighing and she turned to the table to get Peter a glass of water which he sipped gratefully. “At the hospital they had to give you adrenaline and all sorts of things to make sure your body didn’t completely shut down.” Her voice was wobbly at that and Peter gripped her hand with his free one, squeezing tightly.

“In the end your injuries were healing so quickly that the doctors grew suspicious, so Pepper kindly had you moved here.”

“Where’s here?” Peter asked numbly.

“The compound, sweetheart,” May said brushing the hair out of his face affectionately, “we’re in the med bay, next to the hangar.”

“Oh,” Peter managed, leaning back against his pillows again and finally looking out the window. Sure, enough he could see the manicured lawns of the Avenger’s compound stretching all the way out to the heavy-duty gates that cornered it all off.

“What happened after I left?” He forced out after a few minutes – refusing to look at any of the women in the room with him. 

“438 people had the chance to escape the bridge because you were able to act quickly and dismantle those bombs.” It was Pepper who spoke this time. “Everyone is recovering in hospital. That was two days ago, it’s Sunday afternoon now.”

“I have school tomorrow.” Was all Peter could murmur as the scene of the bridge came back to him in vivid snippets.

“That’s ok sweetie, you don’t need to worry about that now,” May said squeezing his shoulder, “everyone has been so worried about you, the doctor here says--”

Peter cut her off. “There were four more explosions.”

“What?”

“Four I didn’t stop.”

May frowned, “You did as best you could Peter, even superheroes have their limits.”

“It was my fault,” Peter ground out and bit his lip firmly to stop it quivering. He could see the way that MJ was looking over at the floor in the corner and he felt his face heating in embarrassment as he turned his eyes to the ceiling and breathed deeply. 

“It was _not_ your fault,” May said squeezing his shoulder tighter. “You saved everyone; you can’t blame yourself for terrorists targeting that bridge!”

Peter didn’t answer.

“Listen,” Pepper said firmly, she was standing now, her files abandoned on her chair, “you cannot start blaming yourself for these things, you see what it does to everyone around here? You did what you could and _that_ _is enough._ ”

“But it _is_ my fault because I knew!” Peter cried, finally losing his patience with it all.

“What?” MJ said, it was the first word she had spoken.

“I knew,” Peter hissed finally looking May in the eyes. Her expression was confused, and MJ was just unreadable. “I’d been tipped off about suspicious activity with ammunitions manufacturers and I _forgot it_. I was supposed to be on duty! I knew that there were things going on that the police wouldn’t know about, but I was an idiot and I kept it to myself because, oh yeah I’m Spider-Man and I think I’m a bloody hero!”

He couldn’t stop himself. “So, I told no one. I knew that it was likely for the attack to happen that night – I even knew the area that they were targeting – and I didn’t say anything _!_ To anyone! I let it happen. I knew where it would be and instead of being able to stop it, I got jealous and distracted and people almost died! So, it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t nearly enough, and it never is.”

Peter was breathing heavily, and the heart monitor’s beeps reflected how quick his heart was thumping. A large lump had swollen in his throat that he tried to swallow past. He didn’t know what else to say and didn’t want to see the disappointment on any of their faces, so he trained his eyes on the horizon out the window. The sun was setting.

“You can’t control everything,” May said firmly after a minute or two. “You don’t have to carry all this on your own shoulders!”

“But it’s my responsibility, Mr Stark said it was important that I knew what I was getting into and I _do_ now. But I keep making these stupid mistakes, mistakes that keep costing everyone around me.” It was almost exactly what Tony had said to him in his dreamscape.

Pepper turned to him once more and made him meet her eyes. Her gaze was so intent and fierce that it was almost frightening. This wasn’t CEO Pepper or Morgan’s Mom Pepper; this was the Pepper who had spent the better part of the last decade and a half surrounded by superheroes, who knew and shared and lived their burdens.

“Don’t you for a second think that this is your fault,” she said firmly, crossing her arms. “Did you give those weapons away? Take them out into public and fix them to a busy public bridge?” Her voice was demanding, and Peter thought the questions had been rhetoric, but it seemed she was waiting for an answer.

“Well no,” Peter relented, “but I might as well have, you know inadvertently or whatever.”

This was clearly not the answer that Pepper had been looking for and her gaze narrowed in anger. “You aren’t supposed to be able to predict terrorist attacks – that’s not your job. As far as I’m concerned, you did exactly what you needed to on Friday. You saved people. Every single person on that bridge will live to see their family and friends and to continue with their lives _._ So, before you go on saying you didn’t do enough, maybe you should think long and hard about exactly what _enough_ is for you.”

Peter looked away, back down at his hands as he tugged at the bandages. The room was entirely silent for a beat as Peter gathered his thoughts.

“But they might not have even got into that situation if it weren’t for my mistake. Mr Stark always said that I have to be mindful about my actions, one wrong move can cause a ripple on effect if I’m not careful.”

Pepper was pleading with him now. “Tony always told you that as a warning, not a reprimand. He was desperate to make sure you didn’t make the same mistakes he did.”

“I agree,” May joined in, “he always told me how special you were, how much _good_ there was in you.”

Pepper nodded, “and Tony was always making sure that he righted his mistakes to the best of his ability. When he realised what Stark Industries was really doing, he almost brought the whole company down by telling the world we were stopping the manufacturing of our weapons. He was never good at admitting to everyone else when he was in the wrong but as soon as he did realise, he’d try and fix it. He spent his whole life trying to right his wrongs and he was terrible at letting go of the past.”

Pepper unfolded her arms and sat herself down on the corner of the hospital bed, reaching for one of his hands and squeezing it tightly. “So, if you think that you did something wrong then think about _why_ and promise to yourself to do better next time. There’s no sense in trying to change the past.” Peter nodded wordlessly and gripped Pepper’s hand back. He looked at his aunt and words that didn’t need to be vocalised passed between them.

Pepper gave him one last small smile and stood to retrieve her files before walking for the sliding door.

“You can take as long as you need to recover here but our doctors said you’d be fine once awake. I expect Happy will want to have a word with you about what happens next.”

“Thank you,” Peter said quietly.

Pepper paused as she was about to close the door behind her and turned to offer one last piece of advice. “There are ways to honour his legacy other than becoming him, Peter, it’s the last thing that he would want for you.”

Pepper let the door thud behind her, and Peter let his head flop back against the pillow. His brain felt tired, more so than when he had busy weeks at college or worked all weekend in his lab, he felt exhausted even though he had just been asleep for two days.

“There’s this too,” MJ said hesitantly and dragged a chair over to the other side of his bed.

“I’m sorry for leaving you at the bridge,” Peter said before she could say anything more. MJ smiled sadly but said nothing, instead opting to drop a stack of newspapers into his lap.

There were about 10 that Peter could count as he thumbed through the pile. The New York Times, the Daily News, the Post, the New York Herald and more. He noticed the Daily Bugle on top and cringed, stupid gossip mills, what did they have to say now?

“Protégé Parker: Is He Spider-Man?”

“Star Student Snapped in Superhero Costume – is he the Masked Vigilante?”

“Spider-Man Left Swinging – Infamous Avenger Finally Unmasked?”

The headlines went on and on. He was on the front page of all of them in some way or another featuring under a number of dubbed nicknames: ‘Protégé Parker’, ‘Spider-Man’ ‘Stark Industries Golden Child’, ‘Stark’s Heir’ and other heinous twists to his identity.

He scanned a few of the articles and several, insistent phrases jumped out at him, ‘suspicions had been growing since Parker developed a close relationship with mentor, Tony Stark, prior to the heroes’ death in May” and “Stark Industries is refusing to comment on the teen’s identity as of yet” or worse: “has Parker been lined up to take over the mantel of Iron Man since the beginning?”. Peter stopped reading when he saw a particular article that speculated about his appearance at the public funeral which was accompanied by comments regarding his parentage and whether he was Tony’s secret child.

Beneath many of the accusatory headlines were blurred photos of a figure hanging beneath the Manhattan Bridge. The images were poor quality and had obviously been taken from a great distance and zoomed in on but there was his face and his hair. He wasn’t sure how they could infer from those photos that it was him though. It could very well be any other white, male, teen with brown hair.

“Someone talked to the papers after they got the photos coming in,” MJ said slowly, “after the explosion, I came to in one of the ambulances and everyone was there getting tended to or waiting to see what happened. They asked about you and I said you were fine but still on the bridge – Flash kept giving me these odd looks and once everything calmed down, he came over to talk to me. He said he knew you were Spider-Man.”

Peter’s heart sunk.

“He said he’d seen the suit go on and wanted me to confirm it,” MJ said rubbing at her right hand and the flap of bandage that had come untucked, “I insisted that I didn’t know what he was talking about but I think it was too late. After that I guess he went straight to the news.”

Peter dropped his head against the papers on his lap and closed his eyes. This was his absolute worst nightmare. How was he supposed to handle a press scandal? There had been close calls before and constant whispers about how he had gotten so close to Tony and the Avengers, but never anything like this. They had photographic evidence and witness statements. It was the last piece they needed to make their story fit.

“I’m going to wait outside…” MJ said trailing off and relieving herself of Peter’s growing frustration. Peter hoped she didn’t think that he was angry at her in any way.

“Peter it’s going to be alright,” May said taking the newspapers off of his lap and moving them out of sight. The thought occurred to Peter how silly the phrase ‘out of sight, out of mind’ was to a brain like his. Out of sight was _never_ out of mind and the newspapers ate at his consciousness even if they were currently being kicked under his hospital bed.

“Happy’s outside and he’s going to tell you exactly how everything will be handled,” May said and grasped one of his hands tightly. “Everything is going to be completely fine now.”

Peter nodded slowly and for the first time that afternoon, actually took a good look at his aunt. Things had changed since they’d both been restored after the Decimation. It was difficult not to blame himself for the shift in their relationship for it was entirely him who had caused the change. He’d gone from being sullen and depressed for a month, then to stressed out of his mind before graduation and then he’d moved away to start college. Of course, things were different. So much had changed in such a short span of time. Peter longed for time to turn back a few years and give him the chance to properly enjoy that which his fifteen-year-old self should have.

May had aged since then. She looked tired and there was something deeper to her eyes that maybe hadn’t been there before his depressive episode seven months ago.

Before it all, Peter was pretty sure that he had been an easy enough child to deal with. Well perhaps easy wasn’t the best word to use. May had been given Peter, having not really had any concrete plans to have children herself shortly following the death of her brother. No, easy was definitely not the right word.

But Peter hadn’t been a very troubled child, despite the scars he bore from losing his parents at such a young age. He grew up well, he was smart and knew his rights from wrongs (though the interpretation had gotten more challenging once he started learning about ethics and Plato and then became a super-hero).

It wasn’t until he was bitten by a radioactive spider and sponsored by a billionaire-genius that things started to get more complicated. He knew that was when things really started to test his relationship with May. She always pushed deeper and wanted to see him in all his pieces, but Peter wasn’t very good at bearing his soul like that. There were parts of himself that he always kept locked up, secrets he held about how he truly felt because he could never seem to say things in quite the right way. When it came down to the ‘ _people_ things’ he knew that deciding to move left or right in a fight would always come more naturally than knowing whether it was the right time to kiss the girl. It was just the way that he was. 

Peter squeezed May’s hand tightly in return. “You’re right,” he said in his most convincing voice and managed a smile. “I’m guessing I’m still flying to MIT on Tuesday?”

“Happy needs to talk to you about that,” May said slowly and her eyes shifted to the door, “I think he wants you back there tonight if you’re feeling well enough , and depending on what your decision is.”

“My decision?” Peter asked, carefully removing his drip (he was pretty sure that you weren’t supposed to do it yourself) and the monitors stuck to his chest. They flatlined when they came unstuck.

“About the papers.”

Peter sighed. As always, duty called, and she had her fists up ready to put up a fight. He could only hope that he wouldn’t make a misstep again and find himself knocked out on his ass once more. 

“Peter,” Happy said a smile bursting across his face when he caught sight of Peter leaving the med bay. He’d changed into some fresh clothes and brushed his teeth and was already feeling a lot better. 

“Hey Hap,” Peter grinned and let the big man hug him.

“You really gave us a scare there, kid,” Happy said pointing a finger sternly. “No more bridges please.”

“No more bridges for now,” Peter agreed.

They began walking down the corridor. Peter’s legs felt stiff and perhaps his body was a little sore but nothing that good stretching wouldn’t sort out.

“We have to talk strategy,” Happy said, “this whole ‘press thinking your Spider-Man thing’ needs to be rectified real soon otherwise it becomes an issue for both you and SI.”

“Right.” Peter said, preparing himself for a breakdown of all the possible solutions from Stark Industries’ Head of Security.

“We have two options.”

“Oh.”

Happy clapped Peter’s shoulder. “Don’t worry it’s not that dire. You either go public with a statement endorsed by the Avengers and SI revealing your identity to the public or we keep quiet about it and wait for it to blow over.”

“What happens if I do go public,” Peter asked hesitantly as they left the building and met the brisk air and the amber light of the setting sun. He basked in the sunlight whilst trying to pretend that the idea of going public with his alter ego didn’t terrify him. 

“We organise a statement and a press conference with all the people from those, ‘scuse my language, fuckers talking about you in the papers and tell them the truth, at least as much as you want to disclose.” Peter nodded, just as Tony had planned years ago (though Peter hadn’t known it at the time the _‘welcome to the team go see the press waiting behind this wall’_ had most definitely _not_ beena test).

“What happens after that?”

“We up security. I’m talking bodyguards with you at all times, you’ll be moved to a separate residence at college and we might have to restrict the time you spend at the flat in New York which means more time at the Compound. We’ll get some Non-Disclosure Agreements drafted for your closer friends, that sort of thing.” Happy ticked each element off on his fingers as he spoke. Peter suspected there was more that would come if he did take that path but that Happy was holding off on sharing all the changes that would have to be made.

“And if I don’t? If I let it blow over? How does that work?”

“We give the press something else to sink their teeth into. They’ve been wanting interviews with you for months so that’s what we give them,” Happy explained. “We make it all exclusive, tell them about your role in SI, how you’ll be the youngest person to ever present at Stark Expo aside from Tony himself, that sorta thing.”

Peter nodded slowly, thinking about how either option would still involve a lot of invasion into his personal life. This could change everything. No, either way this _would_ change everything. Peter wondered how Tony had coped when he had been in this situation.

“Same deal with the NDAs for your friends and whichever witnesses that the papers found to make sure that they don’t do anymore harm. We do some damage control of your image and lead the press in the wrong direction re the Spider-Man rumours. If we make your whereabouts and activities really public for the next month, then with any luck by the new year they will have forgotten about everything.”

Happy was quiet for a few beats, letting Peter absorb the information.

“What do you want to do?” Happy asked, concern and sympathy written all over his face. “It’s a big decision so you don’t need to have a firm answer right now, but if you want to opt for the second option then time is of the essence.”

There was no deciding in the matter. Peter couldn’t afford to come forth about his identity now. The balance he was maintaining between college, the Avengers and SI was precarious enough as it was. Not to mention everything he had worked on with Project Chronos would become even more complicated if there was increased surveillance on him. He couldn’t risk threatening that all, not right now.

“Option 2. Damage control and let it blow over,” Peter said firmly. Later he would wonder whether he had made the right choice, but his mind would constantly come around to the same answer no matter how he weighed the pros and cons.

“Are you sure? You can take your time.” Happy was wringing his hands.

“I don’t need time. This is the only answer.”


	10. juice pops and just desserts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Hope you're weeks are going fabulously so far! I've been full steam ahead with this fic and the draft is up to 60k (oops) so more content coming yayyyy! 
> 
> The next part I'm drafting is definitely my favourite so far and I have to ask: do you have any favourite irondad/spiderson/spiderfamily tropes to recommend? I write this for the readers and I want to give you guys something that you actually want to read. If you have any favourites you'd like to read please do drop them in the comments <3 
> 
> Hope your day/night is going beautifully! Thank you for reading <3 
> 
> p.s. there is a really tiny and obscure reference to the end of FFH somwhere in this chapter? Can you find it? It gave me a bit of a laugh after I realised what I had written :)

At the glass doors to the Avengers residence, Happy and Peter parted ways.

“A car will be round in a bit,” Happy said and fished through his pockets for his phone. “I’ll make some calls and sort a few things out so that you can go back tonight,” he paused, “if you’re feeling well enough, that is.”

“Yeah the sooner I get back, the more time I’ll have to study,” Peter said shrugging itched at his hands. He was beginning to wish that he had taken off the bandages back in the med bay.

Happy looked as though he was about to say something more, but his phone had begun to chirp and he had to answer. Peter gave a wave and left him on the doorstep, retreating into the warmth of the compound.

Of his three current residences, May’s apartment felt the most like home, while his dorm at MIT was probably the least homey. The compound was left in limbo between the two, at the current stage it could really go either way. It didn’t help that Peter wasn’t sure whether he’d ever be completely comfortable going into his kitchen and finding the Winter Soldier having a morning coffee whilst the Hulk fried up some eggs for breakfast.

His phone made a shrill, bell-like sound as May sent through a text. Apparently, she was still in the hangar chatting with Pepper but would be out soon to see him off. Peter hated it when his aunt used the word ‘chatting’, it always seemed an attempt to hide the fact that the conversation was a in fact, a serious one. Growing up with May had featured many conversations that started with ‘Peter we need to have a chat’, none of which had ended particularly well. Despite the ominous ‘chatting’, Peter had to remind himself that, despite the recent headlines, the world did most definitely not revolve around him. Pepper and May could be talking about any manner of things aside from his complete fuck up at Manhattan Bridge.

Peter grumbled to himself as he trudged up the stairs, turning his thoughts instead to MJ who he hadn’t seen since she had left the med bay. He quickly sent her a text and watched the three bouncing circles appear in the chat as she typed back.

‘In a kitchen/ living room in the big main building – no hurry but I think Captain Marvel just fixed me a coffee????’

‘Uh oh. I’ll be there in a sec!’ Peter replied.

He rounded the stairs and tried to ignore the photos that graced the walls above the banister. He wasn’t particularly in the mood for images of the rest of the team at some of the highest points in their careers, when he had just been dealt the lowest blow of his. Too many emotions were captured in these photos and Peter wondered what MJ might make of them for they did indeed appear to speak a thousand wordsas the saying went. Peter was particularly careful to avoid the photo of himself and Tony, the photo that proved his internship. Though his dream from that afternoon had retreated into the back of his mind, Tony’s words still ate at him.

Up until the last photo, Peter thought he had seen them all before. The final one was new; the front page of the New York Times had been flattened out and set behind glass, in a red frame. ‘I AM IRON MAN’ the headline read above a photo of Tony at a press conference from years ago. Peter could practically see the scene playing out in his head, he had seen the video countless times, including the day that it had aired on national TV. He’d later found out that the reveal hadn’t been planned, and Tony had gone off the script. The plan had been to do what Happy was now preparing to have Peter do but instead Tony had revealed everything to the world. It made Peter think.

Voices in the kitchen forced him past the photo and around the corner into the open plan kitchen/living room space that was the unofficial hub of the entire residence. To Peter’s surprise, MJ and Carol were sat close together on the couches in the living room and appeared deep in conversation. MJ was gesturing animatedly with her hands and Carol was nodding in agreement from where she sat in her green chair, Peter had noticed it seemed to be her favourite (though, whenever Fury deigned to join them, the two would have a stare off for who got to sit there – Fury had lost every single time). If he’d really wanted to, Peter could have sharpened his hearing to catch their words, but he didn’t want to invade and instead turned his attention to the kitchen.

“Peter,” Sam Wilson said from where he was stood at the kitchen island, toned arms braced against it. “How you holding up so far?” Across from him, perched on the kitchen bar stools were Bucky Barnes and Colonel Rhodes.

“Getting there,” Peter shrugged with a pained smile as he walked over to join the trio.

“It seriously sucks, man,” Sam said and clapped Peter on the back in solidarity.

“It’s not great having the press on your back is it?” Bucky grimaced and Peter nodded. Years ago, back when he had first been recruited by Tony, Bucky had been all over the papers too. His situation had been a little different when you considered the whole world had believed him to be a mass murderer, whereas Peter was only accused of being a neighbourhood vigilante. Thinking of it that way definitely helped him put it all into perspective, at least he wasn’t on the run from his own friends because they thought he had committed mass crimes against humanity.

“I saw Tony go through it, back then things were a little different,” Rhodey said and took a sip of his steaming coffee before continuing, “then again, Tony rather enjoyed the attention.”

“Yeah well I got none of that,” Sam said, his tone lighter. “Then again, I’m not America’s newest and hottest bachelor so,” he shrugged at Peter, “though I hear that might have changed.” Sam, Rhodey and Bucky turned their heads to MJ who was still talking to Carol.

Bucky, noticing that Peter was now blushing in embarrassment, interjected with a perfectly timed quip. “I don’t think anyone cared when you went public about your identity, either way you were pretty much anonymous.” The nonchalance in his tone made it all the better. 

“Ok, yeah well…” Sam tried to pull together a sufficiently teasing comeback but trailed off with a huff of annoyance. “That’s not fair, I can’t even poke fun at what happened to you because it was so shit.”

“Thanks for your consideration.” Bucky mimed tipping his hat as he spoke. Peter sometimes forgot that the Winter Soldier was a man lost out of time, just as Steve had been.

“Fuck off,” Sam grumbled but the banter was all good natured.

“No swearing around the children,” Bucky said into his coffee.

Peter tilted his head, but smirked. “19 remember,” he said indicting himself. He’d turned 19 in August but in the mind of the others he’d probably still be known as ‘the kid’ until he was at least 30.

“Mommy said that people only say that word when they’re really angry,” a small voice said from behind them and Peter jumped. His hearing must’ve faltered because he hadn’t heard the tell-tale footsteps of Morgan Stark entering the kitchen. She came up to stand at Peter’s side. Felt tip pen marred her hands, making Peter think she must have been upstairs with Bruce who always had at least a dozen whiteboard markers on his desk. 

“Are you angry, Mr Wilson?” She asked sweetly.

Sam was stumped by the question and Rhodey laughed at his expression. “Ah no, Morgan, I was just kidding.”

“Alright,” Morgan said, “but you should be careful because if you say it people willthink you’re angry.” Her tone was sing song as she turned away from the grownups and wandered over to the refrigerator.

“You’re right I should be careful,” Sam said with a pointed look at Bucky who was smiling into his coffee once more.

“It’s ok, Daddy would always say shit instead,” Morgan said, looking slyly at Sam who was clearly gobsmacked by the 6-year old’s readiness to drop swear words. Rhodey laughed so hard at it that he almost toppled off his chair. When Rhodey regained his balance and wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes, there was something deeper to his expression that hadn’t been there a moment ago.

“Hey Morgan.” Peter was grinning, and the little girl smiled back at him as she opened the freezer, letting forth a billow of steam. “Where have you been?” Peter called after her.

“I was just in Mom’s room talking to Genevieve,” Morgan replied giving him a bright smile. Peter had clearly been wrong about her whereabouts. He was struck by what a strange childhood Morgan would come to remember. It certainly wasn’t your average upbringing to be babysat by an incredibly advanced AI in a house populated by some of the most powerful superheroes in the universe. Then again, Morgan’s life had already been different the moment she was born into the world as the child of Pepper Potts and Tony Stark. There were things she’d never have control over that had been decided before she was born, a legacy already in place should she choose to grasp it. The thought of legacy made Peter feel ill as he instantly recalled the newspaper headings. Morgan was a welcome distraction.

“Juice pop,” she muttered, more to herself than him, but Peter walked over to give her a hand anyway. The freezer was chock full of Tupperware containers filled with Thanksgiving leftovers, beneath it all was a box of raspberry flavoured juice pops. They were clearly labelled on one side in permanent marker scrawl.

Morgan took a moment to read the messy handwriting. ‘Dr Banner only’. She gave Peter a mischievous smile, which he gladly returned and helped her take one out of the box. She scurried off to the sofa and plopped herself down near a somewhat startled MJ and began unwrapping the ice-cream.

“Hey, kid!” Sam called after her, “make sure you don’t spill any on the leather!”

“She’s 6, let her be,” Rhodey said and waved a carefree hand.

“Alright, but you’ll be clearing up for her,” Sam said shrugging and pouring himself a coffee too.

“Peter’s the youngest; he can do it,” Bucky supplied, and Peter gave him an outraged look but laughed anyway.

It was these times that the compound felt most like a home. Thanksgiving Day had been a stressful rush with so many people around. He preferred the quiet moments like this which reminded Peter why these individuals were something more than just a team. A dysfunctional family at best, they had been brought together by their shared differences and united by their choice to continue protecting the world as they knew it. Peter felt honoured to be a small part of that circle, even if they were notorious for finding at least 5 things for him to fix or build each time he was around. Occasionally he’d get texts from Carol or Rhodey during his school weeks, asking when he would next be at the compound to sort out suit problems and the like. Peter knew that many of the things were easy fixes, but secretly hoped they asked it of him so they might see him more often, that he might reallybe a part of the team.

It was a naïve thought, he now realised. The Thanksgiving lunch had made that evident enough. He wasn’t Peter Parker with the team, he was rarely even Spider-Man. Instead, he was the mechanic who fixed things for them, a placeholder for Tony Stark, though he knew he would never be worthy of that space.

Peter mentally kicked himself for letting his brain stray so far and ruin a perfectly nice moment, but his mind was an unrelenting expert at overthinking.

Peter left the kitchen as Rhodey went to go upstairs, leaving Bucky and Sam to the quick tongued banter they often found themselves in. On this occasion he could hear them arguing over whether the main sofa opposite the flat screen was indeed leather or if it was fabric. Sam was currently claiming that it was suede rather than fabric.

Peter finally made his way over to MJ and took a grateful seat next to her.

“Hey, you,” MJ said bumping her shoulder against his, “thought you might have dozed off for another two days.”

“Way too busy for that,” Peter said and didn’t let his face betray the terrifying truth of the statement.

“Are you feeling better?” Carol asked from her armchair. She had moved so that her legs were swung over one of the arms, where they dangled casually. “I came by this morning, but you still hadn’t come to.”

“So much better now,” Peter said nodding vigorously as though this would make it more convincing, “I think my body just needed time to catch up.”

Morgan, having finished her juice pop, left the popsicle stick on the coffee table in the centre of the living room and crawled over to Peter. He could imagine Sam cringing at the sticky prints her little hands were leaving. She squeezed up to his side and wrapped her hands around his neck in a hug.

“Hey,” Peter said rubbing her back as Morgan tightened her grip. “What’s wrong?”

“Mommy didn’t let me see you even though all the adults were allowed to,” Morgan said into his shoulder, her voice muffled in his hoodie.

“Aww that’s because I wasn’t feeling very well,” Peter explained. He wasn’t sure how much Morgan had been told or overheard. He knew that some of the team talked like she wasn’t there and it irritated Peter that they overlooked how much she understood, how many misunderstandings might spring forth if they weren’t all careful with their words around her. She was incredibly intuitive for her age.

“But you’re better now?” Morgan asked letting go of Peter but keeping close to his side against the couch. “You won’t go anywhere?”

“I’m staying right heresf

,” Peter assured her, and Morgan smiled, her worries seemingly cast aside. Peter’s, however, were not. He knew what concerns really lay behind Morgan’s questions. Even her choice of snack was a clear sign. Pepper had told Peter months ago that Morgan tended to eat juice pops when she was worried, they had been a favourite that she and Tony had shared.

What Peter did was risky, Friday night was evidence enough of that. What everyone did at the compound was risky and often times their lives were on the line. Was it responsible for them to get so close to such a young child with that threat hanging in the balance every time they went on a mission? Was it fair to risk causing Morgan more loss if any of them got hurt? A knowing gaze passed between himself and Carol as Morgan clung to his arm tightly. But he didn’t voice these concerns and instead wave Morgan a warm smile.

“What were you two talking about?” Peter asked, curiosity getting the better of him. He wasn’t sure how long Carol and MJ had been talking before he had arrived at the residence.

“I was telling MJ all the best stories I’ve heard of you,” Carol said gesturing wildly with her hands, “I was just talking about the time you ordered those Lavender organic bath towels for the whole residence because you thought they would smell nice but they arrived and it turned out that they were Lavender coloured,so the whole compound used them until they realised that they had been made terribly, and the Lavender dye started to rub off on everyone and everything.” MJ winced.

Peter groaned and rolled his eyes skyward. He could never escape that story even though it had been at least two months and the compound had very nice, new towels now.

“Honestly,” Carol said to MJ, “Banner went this weird greeny-purple for at least a week.”

Bruce hadgone a terrible shade after the towel debacle. Peter’s own hands had been stained purple by a hand towel that he’d explained away as a ‘chemistry malfunction’ at college the next week.

“Anyway,” Peter said pointedly turning to MJ, “do you want the grand tour of the Avengers Compound? At least what you haven’t seen already I guess?”

“Sure,” MJ said eagerly, “and Carol wasn’t just telling me about all the bad stories, but also the good stuff, half of which I already knew but some knew things I’ll definitely keep in mind.” Of course they were on first name basis now. It was only Peter who still called some of the team by Mr or Ms, though at their demands he was trying to stop it.

“I’m not sure that I even want to know,” Peter sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Morgan, I think we better go wash off your hands and your mouth,” Carol said getting up and stalking over to the couch. Morgan shook her head and turned her face into the cushions, planting herself between Peter’s back and the back of the couch as she giggled. The shrill laughter became somewhat hysterical as Carol scooped her up easily and began to tickle her.

Peter watched fondly as they went off behind the bench. Sam said something about leather when they reached the sink and Bucky was quick to rebuff.

“Ok, so tour?” Peter said setting his hands on his knees to get up.

“Lead the way, Oh Great Designer of the Avengers Compound.”

“She told you about that, huh?” Peter winced.

“Oh yes,” MJ said following him out of the kitchen, “I’ve heard all about the feats you’ve performed over the last few months.”

“I assure you half of it is overhyped.”

“Ever so humble,” MJ replied wistfully. 

Peter took her around to see as much of the compound as they could manage, and as much as he was sure she was allowed to see. He was conscious of the insistent ticking of MJ’s watch, a constant reminder that they would have to part soon.

He guided MJ through the glass halls, past the personal quarters and the gym, the armoury, logistics rooms and other areas which were just empty, but would likely be filled with something or other in the coming months. The Compound had never been built for the outside world. It was something that Peter had tried to maintain from Tony’s original. Most of the main building of the compound was for the personal use of the Avengers and select members of Fury’s team (those few who had stayed loyal past the Hydra infiltration were still with Fury and their numbers were steadily growing once more). There were official spaces such as conference rooms but any meetings in there were conducted by way of holograms. Any physical meetings took place in the conference rooms of the hangar. No one knew what went on behind the tinted windows of the compound – it was a private space that they could use as they pleased, much to the Press’ chagrin.

As they walked and MJ took in everything around them, most of which Peter had designed, they talked. The topics ranged from university, to the bridge (albeit, a very brief discussion before moving on), to Peter’s role in the team and parts of his history he hadn’t told MJ on Wednesday night.

“I don’t think anyone realised how close you were to the Starks until Morgan crashed our Stark Industries field trip,” MJ noted trailing her hand along a glass cabinet which held some old Captain America memorabilia.

Peter cringed as he remembered the disastrous field trip. “She’s a good kid, but she’s super headstrong.”

“She worries for you,” MJ said glancing at Peter.

“I know,” he sighed, “she’s been through so much that when things like this happen it’s difficult to simply brush it off as nothing. Sometimes, I feel like she’s one of the only one who actually sees our mortality, half the time the team acts like they’re invincible.”

“But it’s good that you’re in her life,” MJ remarked as they continued down the corridor, “remember,” she touched two fingers to her chest and then to her temple, “we keep lost ones with us here and here and they’re never truly gone.” She echoed the words that had helped pull him from his sorrow months ago. “He might not be with us anymore but that doesn’t mean that Morgan has to grow up without a memory of her dad.”

Peter had saved his lab for last. Thankfully, he’d left the space clean on Thursday. His bed was assembled neatly in the corner with a blue comforter and matching pillows. MJ walked straight over to his desktop and marvelled at the tall cabinets of servers that were set against the wall. At the look of awe on her face, Peter decided not to mention that there were another two rooms full of physical servers in the basement, not to mention the virtual ones stored on his desktop.

She turned to look at him and shook her head with an expression somewhere between admiration and befuddlement. “Your life these last few years must have been crazy.”

“You have no idea,” Peter laughed.

“Is it weird that this is still so weird?” MJ asked, gesturing around to the room and implying wider to the whole compound, perhaps further to his whole life. “’Cause this is still so weird.”

“Too weird to deal with?”

“You’re actually lucky cause I actually really like weird.” MJ said matter-of-factly, stepping closer to him.

“Is that right?” Peter asked, his tone teasing. “Do you like weird, like a lot?”

“I dunno spidey boy why don’t you find out.” MJ said pulling him closer. Peter felt her smiling against his mouth as they kissed.

A knock at the door made them jump apart and Peter looked at the floor sighing as the moment slipped through their fingers.

“Sorry, Peter,” Happy said uncomfortably from the door, “I texted you, but we really gotta get going.”

“I don’t interrupt you and May,” Peter complained, putting on a sulking face but taking MJ’s hand and leading her to the door.

Happy raised a finger and gave Peter a look, “that’s different.”

Peter made a face jokingly as Happy took the lead off down the corridor.

“I’m sorry,” he said to MJ, “normally we’d have more time.”

“But this isn’t normal.”

“Never normal,” Peter smiled apologetically, hoping that all this wasn’t going to prove too much for his new girlfriend.

“Normal’s boring anyway,” MJ said shrugging and gave Peter a knowing smile.

Half an hour later they parted ways. Peter was put in a car bound for the SI runway and the private jet whilst May was heading back into New York to take MJ home. The goodbye had been painful, at least on Peter’s end, he’d wanted longer, he was supposed to have had longer but instead he’d wasted the time being unconscious. He promised to text when he landed, and they agreed to call at their earliest convenience. Peter had finals for the next two weeks but after that he’d be back for a month and then, finally, they’d have some time to actually be together, to actually be a couple.

Happy had left Peter with another member of Stark Industries’ security personnel, a tall woman who went by the name ‘V’. Peter didn’t ask whether it was code or actually her real name, he wasn’t sure he’d get an answer even if he did. Meanwhile, Happy was to meet with Pepper, the board and the Stark Industries PR team to discuss exactly what the next steps were regarding Peter’s identity and his affiliation with SI.

“Hey V,” Peter asked, about 15 minutes into the drive, “can we make a detour to Stark Industries? There’s some things that I need to get.”

“We’re going straight to the jet,” V replied shortly, meeting Peter’s eyes in the rear-view mirror. They were dark and looked darker still in the grey light that came from the overcast sky as the sun sunk beneath the horizon. Peter wasn’t sure that he wanted to push her temper, he didn’t yet know enough about her to gage whether it was a good idea, but he had to get to his lab before returning to MIT.

“It’s kinda imperative that I get there before leaving,” Peter said, “Stark Expo stuff.”

V considered him in the mirror a moment before flicking her indicator on. “I can give you 5 minutes.”

To Peter’s annoyance, V insisted on parking the car and coming with him into the building. She even held an arm out to stop him crossing the road whilst traffic slugged past. Peter bit back several remarks, not wanting to test his luck.

He matched her swift pace as they approached SI and slipped in through the main entrance. It was getting late now and any employees who had been in on the Sunday after Thanksgiving would likely have left by now. They waited silently by the elevator, V a pace behind him, her head turning as she cast looks up and down the empty foyer as though anticipating some sort of attack. Peter knew the press could be vicious with their words but surely he, a crime fighting super-human, would be fine if they should come at him.

V insisted on getting in the elevator with him. After a brief stare down (V very clearly won) Peter relented and told the bot to take them to level 27. As usual he retrieved his card from its special box and scanned it.

The lift travelled up in awkward silence and Peter, who had never been a fan of elevator music, actually wished for some if only to quench the uncomfortable tension.

“So,” he began, “do you work for Happy?”

“No.” Came V’s curt reply. “I work with Happy.”

“Right.” Peter nodded and flipped his card between his fingers.

When they reached level 27, Peter slid his eyes across to V and watched as the bot said ‘welcome Spider-Man’ as it always did when he went to his lab. V’s expression didn’t change as she followed Peter from the lift, down the short corridor and to his lab door.

“Can you like wait outside the door or something?” Peter asked, feeling shy for some reason. No one had come into his lab yet and it seemed like a weird waste for it to be a security employee rather than one of his friends.

“I’ll wait insidethe door.”

Peter sighed; it wouldn’t get much better than that. The door slid open to reveal his lab, much as he had left it.

He left V by the door where she planted her feet and clasped her hands in front of her. Peter felt she ought to have black sunglasses to complete her pantsuit ensemble, though the earpiece was pretty cool too. He’d never had any security other than Happy and Happy didn’t really count. 

Peter stooped low over his various machines. Everything appeared to be going well with the particles and the new suit, a relief considering how much money the construction of them was costing him. Seeing as they weren’t any use to him here, he wanted to take them back to his lab at MIT.

The particles were thankfully non-reactive enough by now to transport safely in their little vials. Peter went over to the sliding cupboards that lined the wall opposite his primary workspace and rooted about for some sort of container to store them in. He retrieved a sturdy metal one that had little indents for such vials. He gathered up twenty of the forty that had been made and put them into the case, snapping it closed and setting it in the duffle bag May had given him at the compound.

Every now and then he glanced over at V to make sure that she was staying by the door. He found her looking out the wall of windows on one side of floor 27 in earnest, analysing the buildings that were set against the horizon. Even if they weren’t at the top of the building, it was still an excellent view.

The suit had also been completed in the two days he had been away and Peter set about folding it up carefully and laying it atop everything in his duffle. He was just zipping the bag up when he heard a crash and a mumbled ‘shit’.

He found V, brow furrowed, crouching on the ground as she tried to scoop together shards of a glass that had smashed against the floor. Dum-E was next to her, clacking his claws in disappointment as he trundled off to get a cloth from the kitchen around the corner. It appeared he had been trying to be hospitable and get some water for the first guest that had ever come to the lab. Dum-E had once tried to get lunch for Peter (which was very considerate given that Peter hadn’t eaten anything more than a granola bar in 48 hours), but the kind sentiments were lost by the state the kitchen was in once the robot was done. Peter had banned him from touching it since.

“Sorry,” Peter said putting his bag down and hurrying over, “he was just trying to be nice.”

“It’s alright,” she said, “I was just surprised.”

Peter scooped up the rest of the glass and took it to a bin near his workbench, shaking the shards from the bandages he had forgotten were still wrapped around his hands.

Dum-E returned with a cloth and dropped it on top of the water. Peter pet his top claw affectionately. He was a dumb robot for sure, but he had been Tony’s dumb robot and so Peter looked after him.

“Thanks,” he said as Dum-E clacked again, “keep an eye on everything while I’m gone right, bud?”

Dum-E clacked somewhat sadly as Peter and V turned to leave. He switched the lights out once more and let the door slide shut behind him. There was now added weight to his duffle and Peter was conscious of the precious cargo it held. He carried it as far away from V as possible as they made their way back out to the car, as though she might somehow have an inkling of what Peter was trying to pull off.

But the rest of their trip was uneventful, and they made it to the runway with time to spare. For the first time since starting at MIT Peter would be making the journey back without Happy. Instead it was V who sat opposite him in the jet, along with two other agents (these two had black glasses this time) who made no move to introduce themselves to Peter.

It wasn’t until they had taken off and been in the air for a good ten minutes that Peter was struck by a sudden thought. He didn’t often land himself in hospital, normally his visits had been brief, because as soon as he arrived the doctors would declare that there was nothing wrong – his abilities accelerated his healing tenfold. He must have been in pretty bad shape to have been unconscious for that long.

Waking up in hospital wasn’t the strange part, it was what had happened moments before. Peter had been dreaming, not just that but he’d been having a nightmare. He couldn’t remember the last time that he’d descended into his dreams. He knew that people would say things like ‘you just don’t remember them once you wake up’ but Peter knew that wasn’t the case for him. He hadn’t dreamt in a very, very long time.

To be more precise, it had been over 5 years, Decimation not included, since Peter had last dreamt. A certain radioactive spider had made sure of that.


	11. censorship and signatures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hit a real block with this chapter which took a while to work through which is why it took me a bit to post it. Hopefully everyone is still enjoying the story so far :) 
> 
> note: further down there is a document that is referenced in the story which is actually partially written out. It's not necessary for you to read the whole thing (cause its a bit dry) and was more for me to have fun, so feel free to skip it if you want or read it if you feel :)

5 years later Peter still couldn’t dream. He’d dreamt often as a child when his brain had needed another way to express itself. His elementary school teachers had always told May that he had a ‘very active imagination’, which was just another way of saying that he was notorious for distracting himself with daydreams during class. The last time he’d _properly_ dreamt was the day that he’d been bitten by the spider.

Peter had been in and out of conscious all night, tossing and turning as his body was ravaged by fevers and his DNA transformed by the quick acting venom of the spider. His dreams then had been wild and unpredictable, so abstract that in the morning he couldn’t make any sense of them. It had been such a surreal ride that for a time he had blamed the whole experience on leftover curry (how he had convinced himself that off food was responsible for all the changes in his body he wasn’t sure).

In short, the fact that Peter was dreaming probably wasn’t a good thing. But it had been a one-off occurrence so maybe there wasn’t anything to worry about it. Still, he made a note to follow up with Karen later, perhaps she would be able to shed some insight into why his body had shut down for so long too.

Peter considered all this and more during the hour-long flight back to Massachusetts. When they landed he was horrified to learn that cameras and reporters had already coalesced outside the airport as V and her team hustled him from the jet to a waiting car. Peter was grateful for the soundproof headphones he had snapped over his ears before leaving the aircraft that saved him from the yelling and heckling. He thought he saw people amongst the small crowd holding signs, but a member of security was mimicking his steps towards the car, whether to hide him from the cameras or to hide _them_ from _him_ , Peter wasn’t sure.

When they finally made it to his halls of residence at MIT, he was allowed to walk himself upstairs with only _t_ _wo_ bodyguards hanging at his shoulders, the same silent ones who’d accompanied he and V on the flight in.

“Wait.” It was the first thing that V had said since leaving the airport. She put a hand out to stop Peter from unlocking his dorm door. “Rules first.”

Peter dropped his hand in disappointment, all he really wanted to do was go inside, panic about his schedule for finals and pretend for once that he was actually a normal college student. He tried to keep the exasperation out of his heavy sigh but failed miserably.

“You’ll spend the night here; in the morning you’ll pack your things up and we’ll move whatever you need to the new residence that Hogan is currently arranging. Then you’ll go to class as usual and await further instruction regarding your interviews.”

Peter nodded. Something in V’s demeanour had shifted since leaving New York and he wasn’t quite sure he liked where it was going.

“Unless you want to risk _everything_ , you won’t leave this flat tonight. We’ll have two people stationed at this door and more on the ground, we’ll know if you do,” V said sternly. She lifted a plastic bag with a Samsung mobile in it. “For now, this will be your phone. When you’re in public use this one instead of your actual phone. The press has gotten better at stalking and they’ll easily have someone tap or take your phone if they think it’ll get them exclusives. Use this one whenever you’re not alone.”

“Alright,” Peter said, reluctantly taking the bag from her. Someone had snapped a generic Iron Man phone case over it, which seemed a rather crude joke.

“It’s too late now but in the morning we’ll have the NDAs ready for your friends.” V pulled out her own phone. “How many people have you told?” It was the closest that she had gotten to vocalising that she was aware of his alter ego. Peter wondered if she’d had to sign an NDA herself. He wouldn’t be surprised. 

“Two that _I’ve_ told,” Peter said and watched her type this down, “but they’ll be fine it’s just my best friend, Ned, and my girlfriend, MJ.”

“Noted, we’ll get them the documents to sign by morning.” Peter bit back his frustration at how unnecessary NDAs were for MJ and Ned. How would it look if he made them sign legal forms saying they weren’t allowed to tell anyone a secret that he had already trusted them with? The thought made him squirm.

“There’s a boy I went to school with, Eugene Thompson, he’ll probably need an NDA too.” Peter ground the words out, he’d successfully avoided thinking about Flash all afternoon and didn’t fancy starting now. He hated the way his anger surged to life so easily.

“The company has already taken care of that.”

Peter raised his eyebrows at the finality of her statement. What on earth had SI done to _take care_ of Flash? Whatever it was, he probably deserved it.

“Anyone else? How about your roommate?”

Peter paused thoughtfully. He’d had suspicions about Nic months ago, it was why he’d been so relieved to get the warehouse sorted out for his equipment. “He’s never seen anything as far as I know, but at the beginning I did have my suit and Stark Industries tablet kept in my room when I wasn’t there.”

V raised an eyebrow and shook her head as she wrote something down that he couldn’t quite see.

“Alright, we’ll be waiting for you in the morning to take you to class.” V shut off her phone and turned away from Peter, a clear dismissal. She began addressing the two men who had accompanied them on the plane.

Peter unlocked the door to his flat and crept inside – it was getting late and he didn’t want to disturb any of his dormmates. When he reached his room, the light was still on, streaming under the door and into the dimly lit corridor. Peter pushed it open with a soft creak.

Nic was lounging on his bed, knees up so he could rest his laptop against them. When he saw Peter, he pushed his headphones back a little to say a quiet “hey”.

“Hi,” Peter said managing a smile as he shut the door softly behind him. “Good Thanksgiving?”

“Not bad, lots of studying though.” Nic’s response was short. Peter expected him to say something more, but he put his headphones back over his ears and turned to face the wall.

Peter set his duffle bag at the end of the bed in dismay. They weren’t the best of friends, but they got on well. Usually when Peter got back from his weekends away in New York they would talk about how their respective travels had gone, Nic often spent weekends with his family too. Peter chewed at the inside of his cheek but tried not to concern himself with his roommate’s bad mood. 

He pushed his duffle bag right into the corner, between the end of his bed and the beginning of his wardrobe before draping a hoodie over it, trying not to make the odd shape look too suspicious. As quietly, and inconspicuously, as he could, Peter set about looking over his side of the room, searching to see if anything had been moved in the days he’d been gone. Everything was messy but still the familiar mess that he had left things in. At this discovery some of the tension, which seemed to have taken up permanent residence in his shoulders, lessened a little.

Peter had just pulled his shirt over his head to get ready for bed when Nic reached over and switched one of the bedside lamps off. He sighed but decided not to say anything about it.

His phone called from where he had discarded it on his desk, next to his new ‘burner’ phone. Peter walked over to read it, picking it up and bringing it with him to bed.

The text had come from the group chat that he was in with the rest of the students in his flat. The conversations usually were made up of fights over who had taken the last ice cream from the freezer or left the bathroom in a mess. Lily, whose room was across the corridor from Peter’s, had started the chain off.

_Why are there two scary (yet weirdly sexy) men standing outside our door_

Her roommate Sam, had been the first to reply

_Idk but I get the vibe you mean, like lowkey scary but also what MIB shit is this?_

Jensen, another flat mate had sent the next message.

_I asked them why they were outside our door and they just stood there, like vaguely handsome robots._

_‘vaguely handsome’ he says_ 🙄

The chat continued to spiral for a bit and when there was a big enough pause Peter sent a short text:

_Sorry about the guys at the door, my fault but they’ll be gone by morning so don’t worry._

The group chat stayed quiet for the rest of the night.

Peter was dreaming before he even realised he’d fallen asleep. His Spidey senses tried to get their bearings but there were so many flashing colours that it was difficult to gauge exactly where he was, or what was happening.

At one point he was spinning, as though there was no gravity, through a surreal landscape that looked like a kaleidoscope. Houses started flashing past him in tornadoes, just like in the Wizard of Oz. One house flew past with May hanging onto the side, trying to grasp Peter’s fingers as she span away. In another was MJ, then Sam, Carol, Pepper, Morgan. At one point his lab in Massachusetts flew past completely ablaze from floor to ceiling. Fire poured from the windows and for a horrifying minute his brain conjured the image of himself stuck in there, somewhere deep in the scorching heat. Far away, his mind noticed his body jerk in the bed as he slammed into the darkness of his dreamscape.

Throughout the night Peter went in and out of dreams, some as surreal as the kaleidoscope whilst others were more direct flashbacks of Tony’s two funerals, Thanos’ battle, his battle with the Vulture (which now seemed an eternity ago).

When Peter finally woke up in the morning, he had a splitting headache and felt more exhausted than when he had laid down the night before. He’d slept strange on one of his shoulders and he spent some time wringing it out before sitting up against his pillows.

In the neatly made bed opposite, Nic was nowhere to be found. A quick look to their desks showed Nic’s laptop and backpack missing, he’d probably already gone to class. Peter didn’t have the energy to get up, nor the motivation, so he pulled the charger from his phone and scrolled through that instead.

He was quickly realising why V’s burner phone was such a good idea. All the notifications that had come through overnight were regarding his identity as Spider-Man. The first was a good morning text from MJ, she hoped that he had slept well, reminding him that even superhumans needed their rest. She had also sent through a second message a minute later, a screen shot of his contact in her phone which was a goofy photo of him from graduation. It appeared that she had changed his contact name to ‘Spidey Boy 💙’ which made Peter frown, but at least she had added the heart. Below it she asked about the NDA Happy had sent her and how the nickname was apparently in violation of the agreement. Peter typed back a reply telling her he’d talk to Happy and to not sign the NDA yet. He was sure she wouldn’t have; if given the chance MJ would spend days pouring over the document to make sure she truly understood the terms and conditions.

The next message was from Ned, whose contact name coincidentally was ‘Spider-Man’s Guy in the Chair’ (Ned had changed his name to that since he’d found out about Peter’s secret). Peter replied to Ned’s message, a summons for lunch on campus later that day, with a smiley face and a thumbs up.

The final two texts were particularly incriminating. The first was from Shuri. Peter didn’t want to think what would happen if the press ever heard he was texting the Princess of Wakanda so casually. The headlines already flashing before his eyes he focused instead on her long text.

‘ _I saw the news and hologramed into the Compound to see how you were (scared the shit out of Banner who was in the middle of making a cup of tea!) but Carol said you’d already gone back to university – are you insane? You were in a coma for two days and as soon as you wake up you want to go back to school? I thought we were beginning to bond over the sloth pace and gatekeeping of institutionalised learning that doesn’t cater to all varieties of learners???_

Peter smiled. MJ and Shuri would surely get along well. Perhaps he could arrange a proper introduction in the future (the hurried meeting they’d had in a Stark Industries elevator didn’t _really_ count). Her message continued on:

_‘Anyway, hope you’re ok! Don’t worry about the press, they’re a bunch of hungry bastards who will eat their words once you tell them the truth (or not, you do you). Maybe next time wear your Vibranium suit out – I’d hate to see it wasting away in a lab (and you getting hurt because you think your suits are better!) Feel better soon!_

The final message had come in during the early hours of the morning from Wanda Maximoff, her name was set in his phone to ‘THE Scarlet Witch’.

_Peter, I heard you got into trouble in Manhattan! Sam sent me photos of the news. Trust me when I say I know exactly what you’re going through._

Peter recalled all the rumours that had been surrounding Wanda years ago after Ultron, he hadn’t been part of the team then, but he’d kept up with the Avengers news like it was his lifeline. 

_Whatever you decide to do, know the team has your back, we might not all be at the compound but we’re all here to support you. Take care, Vis and I will keep an eye on the news here (we’re in Scotland). Let us know if there is anything we can do (I’d offer to bring you some food back, but I feel like you probably wouldn’t be a fan of haggis)._

Peter smiled at the messages as he read them through a few times. Their words made the whole ordeal feel a little more bearable. It gave him back the motivation he so dearly needed to get out of bed and sort out his room to begin packing.

By the time Peter had packed up his belongings up it was already half past 9. Against all odds he had managed to gather everything into the two suitcases he’d had stowed under his bed from the beginning of semester.

At 9:30 three of V’s _underlings,_ as Peter had taken to calling them, had arrived to take his things away in a car. V had promised that it was all being left at a nearby apartment that Happy had arranged for him, but the tinted windows seemed ominous. Paranoia ate away at his thoughts as an underling held his hand out for the duffle bag that was sat at Peter’s feet. Months of work and a sickening amount of money was contained in the bag between the suit and the particles and Peter wasn’t keen on giving it up.

“I have never seen a teenage boy so concerned about his belongings,” V sighed in exasperation, picking the bag up herself. Peter narrowed his eyes and V mimicked the movement. “I think the fact you’ve got confidential written across it should be good enough, I promise no one will open it.”

“Alright,” Peter relented. If only because V seemed a lot more irritable this morning and he wasn’t prepared to push her. Her outward appearance seemed just as it was yesterday – she wore a tailored suit and blouse with her hair cropped close to her head in an undercut. But it was her eyes that were different, harder and more determined. It intimidated him so he didn’t say anything more about the duffle bag. Afterall, he had stuck a piece of duct tape along the zipper of the bag and written CONFIDENTIAL in the hopes this would deter some of V’s more nosy employees.

Naturally, V had further instructions for him on the way to class.

“From now on, Kiseke and Kyla will be your personal security,” V said nodding to the two agents who had been following them from his dorm. “Kyla is one of Stark Industries’ security personnel and Kiseke was sent from the Compound for extra protection.”

Peter wanted to remind everyone that this was the newspapers they were running from, not Thanos. They were armed with cameras and smartphones, not hordes of life-threatening monsters.

“Once your classes finish, we’ve rented a café near the campus for your interview with The New York Times, you need to be there at 12:30,” V instructed, typing away on her phone as she spoke, “I’m sending you the address now.”

It was Peter’s burner phone that chimed. “They want photos too so we’ll see what sort of locations we can arrange for that.”

Peter sighed but nodded. “That should be wrapped up by four o’clock, after that you’re free to return to your new apartment and get settled.”

“Cool,” Peter said trying to muster some enthusiasm and failing. With the amount of time and money this was probably costing SI he ought to at least try and act good humoured about it all. 

“The rest of the week we’re sorting out other interviews for you so expect Vanity Fair, Times magazine, that sort of thing.”

“Not Vogue?” Peter joked.

“We could arrange Vogue if you want but it’d be a short column,” V replied thoughtfully.

Peter stopped walking and looked at her with eyebrows raised but V only mimicked the expression and kept walking. They were growing closer to his lecture hall and he was already 15 minutes late. The grounds were busy for a Monday morning and Peter hated the looks that he was beginning to get. He suspected it was likely a combination of the three agents with him and the fact that his name had been all over the news for three days straight. Distracted by the stares and the whispers, Peter didn’t realise that V was still talking.

“Your friend Ned, we need you to get this NDA to him.” She was holding out a stack of papers enclosed in a plastic file.

Peter didn’t argue as he took it but decided he would throw it in the nearest bin once V was far enough away. 

“That’s it for now.” V stopped walking and put her phone away, finally. It irritated Peter how precise her typing was, it made him feel like his every move and word was being recorded. “Happy or I will be in contact at 12:30 but for now I’ll leave you with Kiseke and Kyla.”

An unspoken agreement passed between the three agents as V nodded to them stiffly. She turned on her heal and walked back to the main road, Peter watched as a car pulled up almost immediately and she got into the passenger seat.

There was a moment of awkward silence as Kiseke and Kyla looked at Peter, or he assumed they did, it was difficult to see their eyes from behind the dark sunglasses.

Peter stuck a hand jerkily out to Kyla who hesitated before shaking his hand firmly. “Peter,” he said to her and she nodded, a smile gracing her face for a brief moment.

Kiseke reached his hand out to Peter. “It’s good to meet you.” Kiseke’s voice was coloured by a distinct accent that was familiar to Peter’s ear. “My daughter is a big fan, she started at Midtown this past September.”

“Oh, that’s great,” Peter said smiling as the three of them set off for the lecture hall. “It’s a good school, I’m sure she’ll enjoy it.”

“She’s loving it so far,” Kiseke said, “I moved from Wakanda in July for my work, and she wanted to come along and experience New York for a bit, but her mother is still in Wakanda with the Dora Milaje.”

“That’s really cool,” Peter said, his enthusiasm no longer as forced as it had been, “though I’m sure you probably wanted a more interesting task than following a college student around.”

“On the contrary, Her Royal Highness expressed her fondness for you and her concern at your current dilemma,” Kiseke assured him, though Peter was sure Shuri wouldn’t have phrased it that way. “And if I’m being honest, I’ve always preferred being in the field, the compound can get so stuffy.”

Peter turned to Kiseke, poker face engaged and said, “I made the compound.”

Kiseke looked embarrassed for a moment and Peter almost felt bad for making the tall man uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, I was just kidding,” Peter laughed, “I prefer being in the field too.” He headed off in the direction of the lecture hall.

“That’s a relief,” Kiseke said to Kyla, thinking that Peter couldn’t hear.

“No,” Kyla said slowly, “he really did design it.”

Peter grinned at Kiseke’s laugh. He was past being late now, but it wasn’t likely that he’d be missing much in Introduction to Coding 101.

Another two hours passed, and Peter was struggling to believe that his day was only half over, with the worst yet to come.

Thankfully, Kyla and Kiseke had been decent enough to wait _outside_ the door of the lecture hall, Peter wasn’t sure what he would have done if they’d tried to come in and sit next to him. He was already getting enough weird looks. He took a seat on the end of a row of chairs right at the back of the hall so that he would be spared the humiliation of having people refuse to sit near him. The only person to join him in the whole row was a boy with dirty blond hair that Peter had to stop himself from staring at. There was something very familiar about him that was accompanied by a strange sense of déjà vu. 

As always, Coding 101 had been deadly boring and the second hour long lecture that followed wasn’t much better. The only thing that stopped Peter from walking out was the thought of having lunch with Ned.

His shadows were waiting insistently a few paces away as he exited the hall and Peter broke off at a brisk walk, heading for one of the cafes on campus where he had arranged to meet with Ned.

Ned was already inside, sat at a table by the window and waved excitedly when he caught sight of Peter.

“Peter,” Kyla said, stopping him before he could open the door to the café. He could smell the sweet scent of pastries which reminded him that he hadn’t eaten breakfast. “I have to remind you that we’re supposed to be at the interview in 15 minutes.”

“Oh,” Peter mumbled, knowing that his face visibly fell as he said it. He hadn’t expected the lecture to go on longer than usual and had thought that he’d at least be able to squeeze in a little time with his best friend before duty called. “Ok, just give me a minute.”

The air inside the café was warm and sweet. Peter wondered whether Kyla and Kiseke were allowed to _physically_ remove him if he just sat down with Ned and pretended there wasn’t an interview to go to.

“Dude, are those your _bodyguards?”_ Ned hissed once Peter reached his table.

“Kind of,” Peter grinned and hugged Ned tightly, “crazy right?”

“Yeah just a bit,” Ned said his eyes going big and quickly looking away when he met Kyla’s gaze from the side of the glass. She tapped her watch and Peter sighed. “How are you though? I tried to convince Mom to let my fly up to see you while you were in hospital, I was even going to drive but MJ said you were doing better.”

“Thanks, but I’m good now,” Peter smiled, “and you literally spent your whole allowance on a gaming console last week so I get why you couldn’t fly up.”

“Tactical buy, black Friday sales?”

“Sure thing,” Peter said sceptically, “look I know I said we’d be able to have lunch but I’m being forced to do damage control for the press stuff, and,” Peter sent a forlorn glance of his shoulder, “I have an interview in ten minutes.”

“Aw seriously,” Ned said but his exasperation was directed to the two agents waiting outside the door. Peter knew it wasn’t their fault either but at least Ned wasn’t mad at him.

“This story will take a while to calm down and, in the meantime, I apparently have to make sure I’m the MIT golden child of Stark Industries.” Peter sighed before gather an assuring smile. “But tomorrow let’s meet up again and I’ll tell you all about it.”

“Yeah no worries,” Ned said waving a nonchalant hand, but Peter could see that it did bother his friend

“I’m really sorry, if there was any way to get out of it I would.”

“No, it’s totally fine.” Ned managed a smile. “Duty calls, right?”

“More like duty yells at me 24/7,” Peter said jokingly and clapped Ned’s shoulder, “I’ll text you later ok?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ned said waving Peter off as he sat down to enjoy the rest of his coffee.

Peter felt dreadful leaving like that. He hadn’t seen Ned most of last week, or the week before. They’d texted more than they’d had actual conversations even though they lived literally two minutes away from each other. Peter hated to think that Ned might be feeling sidelined. The sooner this press kerfuffle was taken care of, the better.

Peter and his insistent bodyguards made it to the café in good time. It was a smart place with intricate tiled floors and an elaborate menu written in calligraphy above the counter. For a Monday morning, Peter would have expected it to be bustling, given its proximity to the college campus and the urban living across the road. Instead it was completely empty of patrons save a woman in a smart pantsuit at a table by the window. She met Peter’s eyes as he hesitantly entered the café, Kiseke and Kyla on his tail. Peter watched the woman type out a few things on her computer, her eyes never leaving him. Her gaze was unnerving.

“Peter,” Happy said jumping up from a table where he had been sat with V and a man that Peter didn’t recognise but who was wearing a smart charcoal suit and held a Stark Industries file in his hands.

“Hey Happy,” Peter said nervously and let his attention be guided away from the woman at the window.

“How you feeling, kid?” Happy asked gesturing for him to sit down. “Still alright? Got enough sleep?”

“Yeah I’m ok,” Peter said his gaze flitting uncontrollably around the café.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about with this interview, alright?” Happy assured him. “The Times reporter is over there and you’re just going to act like it’s a normal conversation, ok? She knows what she can and cannot ask and we’ll be right here to interject if we need to.”

“Speaking of a normal conversation,” the man that Peter didn’t recognise reached into the file and withdrew a document which he slid in Peter’s direction. “This is your guide of what _you_ can and cannot say regarding your role at Stark Industries. We recommend you stick to the script.” His voice was hushed as he spoke, and Peter noticed a distinctly nasal quality that he found irritating.

“This is Alexander Spiff, he’s part of the PR team at Stark Industries.”

“Nice to meet you,” Peter said, more as a reflex response than because he really meant it. When Spiff didn’t return the sentiment, he turned his eyes down to the document. The high-quality paper was emblazoned with the Stark Industries logo at the top.

**Public Appearance Preparation Report – αράχνη**

The word ‘αράχνη’ made Peter pause a moment. If he wasn’t mistaken it meant spider in Greek. Peter cast Spiff a look but the man was on his phone and paying no attention. Apparently, Peter wasn’t the only one who enjoyed naming his projects cryptic names (though this was seemed almost too obvious). He continued reading.

**Clause 1**

* * *

The disclosing party [Peter Parker] will be required to engage in six transcribed interviews with various newspaper outlets and appear for an in-person televised interview before the 21stof December 2023. It is expected that Peter Parker exercise caution in regard to relevant undesirable elements of his personal activities coming to light. Peter Parker is expected to act in a polite and considerate manner throughout said interviews. It should be noted that Peter Parker appears on behalf of Stark Industries Pty and should conduct himself in accordance with company standards.

Peter Parker is expected to follow the following outlined procedure for such interviews to avoid certain classified information regarding the activities of Stark Industries Pty becoming public. On the occasion that such information is hinted at, Peter Parker is expected to take the necessary steps to mitigate any damage the company may sustain (representatives Happy Hogan and Agent V1X3N8 are to be on site to aid if needed).

**Clause 2a**

* * *

Anticipated and approved points of discussion are listed below (see page 5 for specific approved information if unsure):

  1. The Party’s family, including Richard and Mary Parker [parents - deceased] and May Parker [guardian - alive] are likely to be brought up in interviews as well as his own personal history and upbringing. The Party may disclose as much or as little of this as he wishes.
  2. The Party’s personal relationship to the Stark-Potts family:
  3. Mr Tony Stark is to remain a mentor figure in the eyes of the media, as such the Party should speak of him in this way; **and**
  4. Ms Pepper Potts is to remain an employer figure in the eyes of the media, as such the Party should speak of her in this way; **and**
  5. Miss Morgan Stark is to be excluded from all interview content (see Section 2a – Unapproved points of discussion).
  6. The Party’s involvement in the Stark Internship program for two years prior to ‘The Snap’ circa 2018. The party is expected to follow the pre-approved story of events that led to this, as described by Mr. Tony Stark in 2016 (see page 5 for supplementary information.)
  7. The Party’s work as an intern [2016-2018 inclusive] in labs 3c and 4a
  8. Non inclusive of the activity of other interns or lab workers. Restricted to the personal workings of the Party himself.
  9. The Party’s involvement in certain classified projects (these are not to be named or described) under the supervision of Mr Tony Stark. The Party is permitted to describe the mentor/mentee relationship that developed during this time as well as the lasting effect this had on the Party’s educational opportunities in later years.
  10. The Party’s 2023 Field Trip to the Stark Industries Headquarters (see the approved narrative of events, provided on page 6)
  11. The events that lead to the subsequent employment of The Party at Stark Industries as approved by CEO, Ms Pepper Potts (see page 6).
  12. The Party assisted in the construction of the Avengers Compound as a result of having worked so closely with Mr Tony Stark in the Party’s formative years.
  13. As photos have already been released regarding the attendance of May Parker and Peter Parker at the Avengers Compound for Thanksgiving, the Party is to concede this point but highlight that the invitation was made out of respect to thank the Party for his involvement in the construction of the Avengers Compound



**Clause 2b**

* * *

Unapproved points of discussion (representatives Happy Hogan and Agent V1X3N8 are expected to intercede if such topics are brought up):

  1. The classified works (see page 4 for complete list) of Mr Tony Stark prior to his passing in 2023. 
    * Including any classified projects that the Party may have been involved in prior to this time [2016-2018]
  2. Mention of the event known as _The Germany Fiasco_ [2016] is to be avoided at all costs (should the interviewer purposefully bring this up the interview will be ceased immediately, and no further questions are to be taken).
  3. Mention of the immediate time leading up to the event known as _The Snap_ [2018] and _The_ _Decimation_ [2023] 
    * The Party shall not concede to being near Mr Tony Stark prior to _The Snap_ or any subsequent involvement, residentially on Earth or elsewhere; **and**
    * the Party shall not concede to being in contact with Mr Tony Stark immediately prior to his death [2023].
  4. Mention of the method taken to reach the outcome of _The_ _Decimation_ is **highly** restricted (should the interviewer purposefully bring this up the interview will be ceased immediately, and no further questions are to be taken).
  5. The personal affairs of the Stark-Potts family are to be handled with the utmost care and there will be no discussion of their private lives [2016-2023 inclusive].
  6. The Party **was not** in attendance at the private funeral service of Mr Tony Stark in April.



The document went on and on describing all the things that Peter could and could not say. His eyes grew weary as they passed over the lines and lines of text and he wondered how he would ever remember all of this during an interview. Pepper was reduced to his employer, Tony was just his mentor and there were specific lies he had to know word for word regarding his time in Germany, his relationship with the team and everything that had happened since the Decimation. He even had to lie and say that he hadn’t gone to Tony’s funeral. How many more lies was Peter going to have to tell?

“You don’t have to worry about remembering it all right now, we’ve approved all the questions that the Times interviewer has so you shouldn’t have any problems,” Happy assured him as though he had read his thoughts and Peter wondered how much of his concern was clear on his face. “I know it’s rushed,” Happy said, “but this is the most crucial time for us to get the press under control. The longer you go without speaking the more time they have to convince the public.”

Peter nodded wordlessly and flipped to the end of the document, finding the dotted line he was supposed to sign. He was pretty sure that you were supposed to be advised by lawyers regarding such legal documents, but it didn’t seem he had much of a choice. Alexander Spiff slid an expensive looking pen across the table and waited in anticipation for Peter to sign.

Signing this document cemented Option 2. Peter had thought this would be the easier route compared to the chaos that would be revealing that he was in fact Spider-Man. Somehow, he had convinced himself that Option 2 meant things wouldn’t change, but already everything was so different. If Option 1 had been promoting his identity, Peter had assumed that Option 2 would be preserving it. Instead he was about to watch it be destroyed by lies and twisted truths.

This wasn’t going to end with the interviews. He’d have to keep lying, and he’d have to do it well. His relationships with Tony, Pepper and Morgan were all about to become public property and for that to happen they _had_ to be reduced to formalities. The Avengers would become acquaintances, business partners. Everything he had achieved in the last few years had to be downplayed to make it believable for the news and palatable enough for the public to lap right up. The company wanted to present their shiny Goldenchild without any of the added complications that came with him. And that was what Peter had to give them.

Peter found himself face to face with a question. It wasn’t whether this was the right thing to do; it wasn’t ‘what would Tony Stark do?’; it wasn’t ‘will this protect the people around me’.

It wasn’t whether or not he would like the answers he might find to those other questions.

The real question was if he was prepared to sign anyway. 


End file.
